The Copper Queen
by Phx Reign
Summary: AU set in the Old West. Sansa Stark had lived in Copper Canyon at least half her life. She and Arya are all that remain of their once large family. In the old west rumor and gossip can quickly become legend. And if you believe the legends of Copper Canyon, than you know the Starks carry a curse. Will a chance meeting with the town's newest arrival be enough to break the curse?
1. Chapter 1

Arizona Territory 1880s

The stagecoach shuttered to a stop on the hot dusty main street of Copper Canyon. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly on the stage as the door swung open. "How can it be this hot in May? I think you lied to me," Samwell Tarly complained as he stepped out of the stagecoach. He was already sweating, entry into the direct sunlight only made it worse.

"I think you let yourself be lied to," Jon Snow countered as he followed him out of the coach.

"And how do you figure that exactly?" Sam asked looking slightly offended.

"You choose to believe me about the weather when you knew full well I've never been this far south, or west, before."

Sam gave a small grunt in response and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"At least it's a dry heat," Jon said as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Hot is hot," he heard Sam mumble.

He stood next to Sam and surveyed the town. It looked just like most other southwestern mining towns. The main street stretching out before them in both directions. Both sides of the street were lined with businesses and wooden sidewalks. It did boast a few brick buildings, though most were plywood and several of them looked to have been recently constructed. It appeared to still be a town on the rise.

"You hungry?" Jon asked.

"Look at me," Sam answered, "Am I ever not?" The two men laughed as they grabbed their bags from the rack on the stagecoach and headed off down the street in search of lunch.

They entered through the swinging doors of the nearest saloon to find it was mostly empty. The few men that were in there looked to be finishing lunch. The men were dirty and rough looking. Of the ones that bothered to look up as they entered, none of them smiled. The bartender gave them a nod as they walked up to the bar and took a seat.

"Afternoon boys, just came in on the stage did you?" Jon realized then that the bartender was in fact a tall woman. Sam was just looking at her in shock, his mouth hanging slightly open. The woman didn't seem to be bothered by the reaction though.

"Yes ma'am we did," Jon answered.

"Well welcome to Copper Canyon then. Now what can I get you?"

"Two beers, and whatever you're serving for lunch," Jon answered for them both.

"Coming right up," the woman said. She poured them their beers and disappeared towards the kitchen.

She returned shortly after with two bowls of steaming stew and set it in front of them. She then poured them each a glass of water. "Make sure you drink plenty of water out here. If you don't, well you liable to be dead before you even realize your brain's been cooked." Sam's eyes went wide and he quickly gulped down half the glass of water.

The woman walked away and served the end of the bar before coming back to them. "So where y'all come in from?" she asked as she refilled Sam's water.

"Our last station was Fort Laramie ma'am," Jon answered.

"And you decided it was a good idea to come here, to the desert, at the start of summer? You two ain't exactly bright, now are you?" the woman said. "And stop calling me ma'am. Please."

Sam sputtered a bit, his expression a mixture of shock and annoyance. Jon knew he hadn't appreciated her saying they weren't bright. Sam's knowledge and wit were one of the few things he was actually proud of.

"As you wish. And well, we appreciate the concern, but we'll be alright. In our previous lives we've survived far worse things than a bit of heat," Jon said calmly.

"That so? Well that'll probably help you. Only the tough and the stubborn survive here. What ya'll say your names were?"

"We didn't," Sam mumbled somewhat perplexed.

"I'm Jon. This is Sam."

"Well welcome to the devil's asshole boys. I'm Brienne. This is my place by the way."

She seemed to be waiting for them to say something or challenge her assertion, and while neither of them had really encountered a woman owning her own business, let alone running a saloon, they knew better than to be rude.

"Well, seems like a mighty fine place," Jon said.

"And this stew's wonderful," Sam added.

She regarded them a moment longer and then finally gave them a hint of a smile. "Well alright then. Enjoy your meals," she said and walked away to go talk to one of the other customers.

"What have I let you dragged me into this time?" Sam hissed.

"It's gonna take some getting used to sure, but if play our cards right, this here might just be the land of opportunity for us. Anyway, I'm sure this place is probably more bark than bite," Jon assured him.

They both turned at the sound of loud deep rumbling laughter. A red haired man with wild hair and a wild beard was sitting at the table behind them and apparently had been eavesdropping.

"You two will be dead in two weeks tops," the man said once he stopped laughing.

"And how do you figure that?" Jon asked.

The man laughed again. "I can just tell. I've seen it before. I imagine you got big dreams of hitting it rich in one of the mines. I hate to break it to you but that's rare. And everything in the desert is designed to kill you. Didn't you feel it when you stepped off that stage? If the heat doesn't get you, the rattlesnakes will. And the coyotes and vultures, well they're are just waiting to pick your bones."

Sam sat wide eyed and his mouth hanging open. Jon glared at the man. "As far as welcome wagons go, you're a rather poor one."

"Just trying to save your lives," the man said with a laugh.

"It can't really be all that bad. I would think it's at least safe here in town," Sam said. "Right?"

The man laughed again. "You're probably better off in the desert friend."

Sam looked at Jon nervously. "We'll be fine," Jon assured him.

"I won't be making assurances you can't keep," the man said.

"Listen sir, I don't mean to be rude, but what do you know of it? You seem to be making some bold assumptions and you don't know anything about us," Jon said letting his frustration get the best of him.

"I'll give you that. I might not know you, but I know your type… Let me give it a go, ex army right? Reckon for the most part you been kicking around in the plains, maybe Indian Territory, since you signed up. Finally just got sick of killing all them woman and children, so now you come west to find your fortune?" Jon could feel his jaw ticking with tension. Sam was just looking between Jon and the other man. "Tell me I'm wrong. If I'm wrong I'll pay for your lunch," the man added.

"And if you're right I suppose you'll be wanting me to pay for yours," Jon said after a beat.

"Maybe you are smarter than I'd originally thought," the man said and knocked back a large gulp of his whiskey. "So where you planning to stake your claim boys?"

"Not sure we will be. We came looking for other opportunities. Besides, we're not exactly experienced miners," Sam answered him. Jon just sighed. He really wished that Sam would keep their weaknesses to himself.

"Well no shit? And here I thought I was talking to Henry Comstock this whole time."

"Tormund!" Brienne said sternly from behind the bar, "You stop harassing them shave tails right now or I'm gonna toss you out here like the last time."

"You know threaten to put your hands on me ain't no deterrent," Tormund responded waggling his eyebrows at the barkeep. Brienne shot him a look of disgust as she groaned and walked away. "She's gonna admit she loves me one of these days, you're gonna see."

"I thought you said we'd be dead in two weeks," Jon countered.

Tormund gave a sharp laugh. "You might be alright after all. Tell you what, I'm gonna help you out," he said as he rose to his feet.

Jon and Sam exchanged a look. Jon shrugged a bit as if to say, "He might be crazy, but let's hear him out."

"Eat up boys. I'll meet you outside in ten minutes." He downed the last of his whiskey and went out the door.

Sam just stared after him until Jon told him to finish up. "You can't be serious. We are not going anywhere with him," Sam hissed.

"Seems like he knows the place, which is more than we can say right now. He might be able to help us."

"Or he's going to rob us and use our bones to make weapons."

"Tormund's a bit of a crackpot, but he won't hurt you," Brienne offered as she came to top their waters off one last time. "He's been here for a coon's age, knows the area pretty well. There are far worse people you could fall in with. I recommend you take the help where it's offered. There aren't many people in this town that still give a rat's ass about other folks."

"Thanks for the advice," Jon said as he settled the tab.

"Did you mean what you said earlier? Y'all really don't know that much about mining?"

"No ma'am, we don't. Sam here is actually hoping to apprentice with the town doc."

"I was a medic in the army," Sam told her.

"And I can do lots of things. We're hard workers and we'll catch on quick with whatever we decide I'm sure," Jon said.

"Tell you what, you both seem like good eggs. Come back by tonight, I might be able to help you out."

"Thank you ma'am, we'll do just that," Jon said.

"Alright then, get on with you. You don't want Tormund getting too antsy. And when you come back tonight, please drop the ma'am horseshit."

"Sorry, I'll try to remember," Jon said.

Brienne just smiled and waved them off. They said one more goodbye and then left the saloon to meet Tormund and possibly their future.

xxxxxx

"Fine work as always. The girls are going to be thrilled with these," Margaery Tyrell said as she examined the hem of one of the dresses Sansa had sown.

"I'm glad you liked them. As always, I appreciate the order, truly," Sansa Stark said. She was glad she'd been able to deliver it this week and get paid. She owed the bank their monthly payment at the end of the week and still needed to settle out with the general store as well.

"Of course. And anyways, it's far more affordable to just order the fabric and have you make them than to order the completed pieces from France or New York."

"Do you have any mending this week?"

"Of course. These drunken ruffians cannot keep their hands to themselves. We have far too many dresses with torn straps and hems than is proper. Shae is supposed to be collecting the last of them for you now. I really wish the rougher ones would stay over at the Triple P where their kind is welcomed."

Shae appeared then carrying a canvass bag that was nearly full of clothes. Sansa said a silent prayer of thanks.

Loras Tyrell, Marge's brother and the official owner of the dance hall, appeared then and handed Sansa a small bag of coins. He thanked her and then headed back to the office.

"I'll walk you out," Marge said.

They headed to the back of the hall so she could let Sansa out into the alley. "Marge," Sansa began.

"I told you before, you don't need to thank me every single time. You'll always have my business."

"I know, but am grateful. You were one of the few that didn't waiver after –"

"You know full well I don't believe any of that curse horseshit, not before, not now." Sansa gave her a tight smile and a quick hug. "I'll see you end of the week as usual," Marge added before she went back inside.

She tossed the sack of clothes into the back of the cart and then pulled herself onto the seat. She snapped the reins and the mule headed down the alley. She turned out on to Main Street. She could feel some eyes on her. She had thought they would lessen as time passed, but so far she'd had no such luck.

She stopped in front of the general store and hitched the mule to the hitching post and went inside. Mr. Luwin looked up and gave her a hint of a smile. He was always nice to her at least, probably because she continually paid her bill in full and on time every month.

"What you be needing today Miss Stark?" he asked as she reached the counter. She noticed the store was rather empty of customers at the moment. It helped her relax a bit.

Sansa pulled the list from her waistband and rattled off the supply list. He and the new stock boy worked to gather everything together. She could see the stock boy sneaking glances at her, she knew he was trying to puzzle out if the stories were true. She paid Mr. Luwin as the boy began to lug the supplies outside to her cart.

She glanced at the clock behind Mr. Luwin and was pleased to see she was making good time. She only had Olenna's boarding house to stop at and then she could head for home. She hoped the coach had brought in some new boarders because the work from Olenna's had dropped off recently, and with it the income that she counted on to keep her and Arya on the claim.

She went back to her cart and headed off to the south end of Main Street. She sped up a little when she passed Petyr's Pleasure Palace, or as it was commonly known, The Triple P. She didn't want to risk Petyr seeing her and trying to stop her for one of their chats.

She pulled to a stop in front of the boarding house and hitched the mule up. She climbed down and made her way inside. She sometimes thought of Olenna like she was her own grandmother. And if she was being honest, if it wasn't for people like the Tyrells she wasn't sure how she and Arya would continue to survive in this town. Especially recently. Olenna and Margaery had essentially saved her from ruin when they had persuaded several other businesses into keeping their laundry with her after the incident at the mine.

"Olenna!" she called out.

"Kitchen!" she heard her call back.

Sansa made her way to the kitchen and found her stirring a large pot. "Stage came today. Any new boarders?" she asked.

"I heard a few people got off but no one's been by for a room yet." Sansa knew her face fell a bit. "Don't worry dear, I'm sure they just decided that it was more important to drink or whore before finding a place to sleep. The bag's out on the back porch for you."

"Thanks." Sansa went out back and came back in with the bag of laundry.

"I guess I'll stop back on Friday then," Sansa said.

"Sounds good. I do hope I get some new borders this evening. Ever since that blasted Harren Hall opened up on other end of town it's been more of a battle. And an empty house is not a profitable one."

"Agreed." She did work for both places, but Olenna paid her much better.

"Well do say hello to your sister for me."

"I will. I'll see you Friday," Sansa said and then turned to leave.

"Sansa dear." She stopped and turned to face Olenna. "Have you thought anymore about what we talked about? About the shop?"

"A little, but I still need to save up some more money before I'll be ready."

"Alright then, but I have it on good authority that there is a prime space getting ready to open up."

"Really? Where?"

"The apothecary. Believe it or not that snake oil salesman that took over the place is already looking to pull up stakes."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Are you certain you two want to remain out there on that claim all alone? It's be a few months now, and well I can't imagine it's getting any easier."

Sansa sighed. "It's not really, but right now it's still easier to be out there then here all the time, what with some folks still looking at us a little funny….."

"Fair enough. Though I must say I still can't believe how stupid these backwater idiots can be. We both know that whole curse nonsense is hogwash. If anyone should be getting the stink eye, well it should be Baelish himself."

Sansa shuttered a bit at the mention of Petyr. "Yes, well we both know no one in this town is going to risk their lives or livelihood calling him out on anything. Especially that."

"It's just not right dear. The things –"

"Olenna please. Let's not do this today," Sansa interrupted her. She had no desire to go down this road again. She just wanted to get back to the claim so she could start on the wash and help Arya with dinner.

"Alright, alright. It just chaps my hide how much power that terrible man has been given."

"I know….. Thanks again for the work. Have a good afternoon."

Sansa turned and headed for the front door. She shifted the laundry bag in her hands and went to push open the door with her shoulder. Just as she leaned in, the door was pulled outward. She stumbled forward into someone. Laundry spilled from the bag.

"I'm sorry," she cried as she quickly tried to gather up the clothes.

"It was my fault. Here, let me help you," a man said. Their hands touched as they grabbed for the same piece of clothing. They both stopped and their eyes met. Sansa inhaled sharply at the sight of the man. He was ruggedly handsome. He had dark hair, a beard and thoughtful grey eyes. The scar on the right side of his face and the one near his left eye somehow made him more handsome to her.

They both crouched there frozen for a few moments taking each other in. The man finally gave her the hint of a smile and then stood up.

"Thank you," Sansa said as he handed her the garment.

She flushed when she realized someone behind the man was clearing their throat. She met Tormund's eyes and gave him a quick tight smile before picking up the bag and quickly heading to her cart. She tossed the bag in, unhitched the mule and climbed in the seat. She glanced one last time at the man, who she noted was still looking at her, and then snapped the reins and turned the mule towards home.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who was that?" Jon asked as he watched the cart disappear around the corner.

"You best stay away from that one," Tormund said.

"What? Why?" he said with a bit more alarm then intended.

"There's a few reasons…. But I recommend you stay clear of all them Starks. They're cursed," he answered as he spit on the ground, "You don't want any of that getting on you."

"Cursed?" Sam repeated sounding concerned, while at the same time Jon said, "Did you say Stark?"

"Yeah, Stark. Anyways, let's get in there and see if Old Lady Tyrell has any rooms for you," Tormund said waving off their questions about the pretty red haired girl.

Olenna met them in the front room and confirmed that she did have a room available. She said the price came with two meals a day and laundry. They agreed to the price. When she went to take them up to the room, Tormund said he would be back for them around dinner and headed out the front door.

Olenna showed them up to their room. The room was nicer than Jon had expected and it had a window that overlooked the street.

"The room's alright?" she asked.

"The room is just fine. Thanks ma'am," Jon said.

"No need to be so formal, you can just call me Olenna." The men both nodded. She held them in her gaze for a moment and then continued. "I don't have many rules here, but I would like it known that this is a reputable boarding house. So if you want to be carrying on, whoring and all that, you'll get no judgement from me, but you will keep that over at the brothels. Don't be bringing any of them back here. Understand me?"

"Brothels?" Sam sputtered and then turned beet red. Jon knew he was not use to a woman talking so candidly about this subject.

"Yes, brothels, cat houses, whore houses. Lord you are a shy one," Olenna said with a laugh. "And just a recommendation, if you do wish to go whoring, try to stay at the more reputable ones. I personally recommend High Garden. My grandchildren run the place and it's pretty good as far whore houses go. They'll insist you tell me it's just a dance hall, but I know better. I'm old, not stupid…. Anyways, they treat their girls right. Of course you can make up your own mind, but I must insist you stay away from The Triple P. He doesn't treat his girls well and you're very likely to wake up there and find you've been robbed…. if you're lucky enough to wake up at all."

Sam just gaped. "Thanks for the advice," Jon mumbled.

"Of course, that's what I'm here for….. Do let me know if you have any questions or if you be needing anything." There was an momentary pause. "Well I'll let you get settled in. Dinner's at six," she concluded. She turned to leave then and began to head down the hall.

"Wait!" Jon called moving to the door. Olenna stopped in the hall and turned back. "The girl," Jon began. "The one that was here right before we arrived. She had a sack of laundry."

"The girl?" Olenna said thoughtfully. "Oh, you must mean Sansa, she's the laundress."

"Yes, Sansa. Does she stay here?"

"No, but she'll be back on Friday if you need to have something washed."

"Tormund said she's cursed," Sam said to no one specific. Jon turned back and shot him an exasperated look. Sam flushed a bit. Jon wondered if he just realized he'd spoken those words aloud.

"Listen good," Olenna began as she stepped back to their door. "Don't believe everything you hear in this town. The west is full of legend and bullshit. You'll be well served to remember that." And then she turned and left them alone in the room.

xxxxx

Tormund returned that night around dinnertime. He paid Olenna to let him eat with the borders. They all sat at a long table in the fenced in yard behind the boarding house. There were a couple other boarders there. They all introduced themselves. Both had arrived within the last couple of months and they worked over at the mine. One was a solemn slight man with long dark hair who introduced himself as Edd. The other was tall and broad and gave his name as Grenn. They were both friendly enough, but they seemed exhausted from their shift at the mine and didn't seem much interested in having a conversation tonight. As a result they all ate in relative silence before Jon, Sam and Tormund headed out together.

"Tonight I'm going to show you a bit of the town. Tomorrow I'll take you to the land deed office so you can stake your claim."

"We told you earlier, we're not really here to necessarily mine," Jon said.

"Suit yourself," Tormund said with an eye roll. "But the longer you take, the more likely it is someone else will strike it rich. For a fee I can help you locate the best possible claim."

"What is it you do in this town exactly?" Sam asked.

Tormund gave a barking laugh. "I'm a man of many trades. I do a little of this, some of that. You know how it is."

Sam and Jon exchanged a look behind Tormund. They had no idea how it was. All they knew was that he was a confusing man.

"Alright so on the left there is The Triple P. Olenna's not a fan, probably 'cause her grandkids run the brothel at the other end of the street, but it's not so bad as far as cheap hook shops go. The beds are at least decent, but don't fall asleep in there. Once you shot your load, well move on home for your nap." Sam blanched. "Bank's on the right next to the general store. Feed mill is down on the end by the church, not too far from the smith and the livery. On the left now is King's Landing Pool and Gaming Hall. Mr. Petyr owns that too. Carefully of hustlers in there. The Mockingbird Saloon is next to that. That's Petyr's too."

"Seems like that whole side of the street belongs to him," Sam observed.

"Ain't just what side of the street. He's the landlord for quite a few folks here, among other things. I think if he had his way, people would be calling this Baelish Boulevard instead of Main Street," Tormund said. Jon noted the hint of resentment in his voice.

"You don't sound like you care for him too much," Jon said.

"You could say that… Though I'll deny it if you do. He's a power fella in this town though, so don't cross him. And be careful if you ever hit it big, if he thinks you've got anything worth anything, well he'll do his best to take it from you…"

"I take it you know this from experience?" Sam ventured.

"We've had our encounters….. Just trust me on this. You don't want to be getting between Petyr Baelish and what he wants."

Jon felt a chill creep up his neck then. He felt as if he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see a tall slender man with graying temples, a pointed beard and a mustache emerge from the noisy saloon. A couple of scantily clad women followed behind him. The small group stopped on the sidewalk as the man observed them. Jon couldn't help but regard him back.

Tormund appeared beside him suddenly and Jon nearly jumped. "Look away greenhorn, you don't want to get pulled in by him your first night," he said softly. "Come on, let's get to Oathkeepers," he said as he started to walk away. Jon moved to look away, but not before the man gave him a knowing smile and a tip of his head.

They continued down the street until they reached Oathkeepers. They found it much less raucous than most of the other saloons they had passed on the way. The bar was half occupied and about half of the tables as well. There was a dark haired moon face gentleman tending the bar.

"Bit quieter than the other places," Sam observed.

"Brienne don't tolerate a lot of shit and she don't keep whores," Tormund shrugged.

"Maybe some are uncomfortable drinking in a bar owned by a woman," Sam said.

"Are you?" Tormund asked. There was an edge to his voice.

"No! No, course not," Sam stammered as he flushed.

"It's just something new to us is all. It's a fine place. Let's get a table," Jon said trying to calm the waters. Tormund regarded Sam for another moment before finally shrugging and leading them to a table near the end of the bar.

"I need three whiskeys Pod," Tormund called to the bartender as they sat down. They took their seats and moments later drinks appeared in front of them.

"New in town?" Pod asked as he headed back behind the bar.

"Yes sir," Jon answered.

"Sir? That's a stretch," Tormund laughed. Pod gave him resigned look.

"Well welcome," he said turning his attention back to Jon. "I'm Podrick, Pod to most folks. I'm mostly here in evenings."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jon, this is Sam."

"Alright then. Let me know when you need another round," Pod said and headed off down the bar to attend the other patrons.

"So what were you saying earlier 'bout you ain't so sure you're ready to stake your claim?" Tormund asked keeping his voice low. "I mean if you ain't looking to set yourselves up all independent like, are you just planning to work the corporate mine?"

"What is it with you and the mining?" Jon asked.

"Nothing other than this is a mining town and I can't imagine anyone would come here without a plan to mine," Tormund said leaning back in his chair.

"Well, we didn't make an exact plan. Kinda just hoped and prayed things would just fall in place once we arrived," Jon explained. "Wing and a prayer I suppose."

"Rather bold strategy. So you really came all this way west and know nothing about mining?" Tormund was still sitting back but his eyes were studying Jon shrewdly.

"I've read a lot about mining," Sam offered. His comment seemed to break the tension that had been building.

"Read?" Tormund laughed and sat forward in his chair. "This is worse than I thought."

"Not at all. It was several different books," Sam answered. "I was very thorough." Tormund laughed again and slapped the table.

"I knew it. You two are gonna die out here. I just need to go start taking bets at the Landing on when." Sam looked flustered. Jon just shook his head. "You know normally I'd let you green peas perish, but for some reason I like you two. So tell you what, I'm willing to teach you a bit of what I know, for a fair price of course. You just say the word."

"Thanks?" Sam said unsure if that was a correct answer.

They all took a drink of their whiskey after that and looked around the bar. Jon realized he actually appreciated the atmosphere here. It was calmer than any other saloon he'd ever been in and he felt himself relaxing a bit.

"So what can you tell me about the Starks?" he asked after another swallow of whiskey.

"Cursed," Tormund said gruffly and spit in the nearby spittoon. "Only two of them left now, the red head one we saw earlier, and her little sis."

"Now Tormund, you stop that right now. Don't be spreading lies about them poor Stark girls. That family's had terrible enough luck. You don't need to be adding to it by scaring new folks away from them," Pod said as he placed another round on the table.

"Bad luck? That's what we're calling it now? They're cursed and you know it."

"Don't listen to him. He's a superstitious old goat," a man sitting at the bar interjected.

"Stay out of it Greyjoy, I found them first and I don't want your shit luck rubbing off on them neither."

The man turned and smiled at Tormund as he downed the last of his drink and then proceeded to ignore him. "If I might, who are you and why you asking after the Starks?"

"Jon Snow. Just arrived this afternoon. This is my associate Samwell Tarly. I met Sansa briefly this afternoon. Was just curious is all."

"Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all," Jon answered.

The man slid from his stool and took a seat at their table. Tormund grumbled something as he took a sip of whiskey but it was too low for Jon to hear.

"I know them Stark girls well. Don't believe any of the shit anyone says about them. They're nice girls. They're not witches and they are not cursed," the man said and stared pointedly at Tormund.

"Fine, maybe the girls ain't cursed, but you know their pa sure as shit was. And I'm pretty sure that curse can't tell the difference between daddy Stark and his kids. The boys are all proof of that."

"Even if that is true, which it's not, it ain't their fault. And it doesn't help them for you to be telling every person that comes to town to stay away from them."

"They're fuckin' hexed," Tormund muttered more to himself than anyone else.

"And how you do know so much about them?" Sam asked.

"I mostly grew up with them. Theon Greyjoy by the way," he said as he offered his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Jon said taking his hand and shaking it.

"Theon here spent a lot of time with the Starks, up until Robb got killed. Ain't that right Greyjoy? You say they ain't cursed but you keep your distance now too, don't you?" Tormund said, accusation clear in his voice.

"Sansa prefers I don't come around right now."

"Why's that?" Jon asked genuinely curious.

"Yeah Greyjoy, why's that? Go on and tell these men why the Starks girls tossed you out even though they got no one else right now."

Theon and Tormund stared daggers at each other for a moment. "Maybe you could start from the beginning?" Sam suggested to break the tension.

Theon broke away and looked at Sam. "Right then. First promise me you don't mean them girls no harm."

"We swear on our lives," Jon swore. Theon looked at them a moment longer and then nodded.

"The Starks were from the northeast originally," he began. "Their daddy, god rest his soul, was an officer for the Union. After the war he wanted out of the east, wanted a new start. Their mama had been childhood friends with Petyr Baelish."

"The one that owns all the buildings?" Sam asked.

"That's him. He had gone west some years before, made some money off the Comstock. He told Mrs. Stark they should come west, said the opportunities were limitless and he would help them out. So they packed up and came out. I met them when they arrived in Nevada, we were neighbors. My pa was a mean cuss, he died in a mine blast, the Starks took me in after.

Eventually Baelish got the great idea they should all head down to Arizona, said it was the next frontier after he heard news about gold in Vulture City. Ned, Mr. Stark, wasn't much interested at first. I think him and Baelish had started to get at odds over Petyr's less than savory businesses. But Mrs. Stark talked him into it, said they could trust Petyr. He had made money on the Comstock after all and she was sure he'd never do her wrong.

So we all came south, kicked around a few of the other boom towns before they decided to settle here in Copper Canyon."

"I'm still not understanding why everyone says their cursed," Sam said.

"He ain't got to the curse part yet dummy," Tormund said as he motioned to Pod to bring him another drink.

"Anyways, Ned and Petyr basically built this town. It wasn't much more than a watering hole when we got here, the vein had just been discovered and sold to IB. Ned had originally planned to just work his own claim, and Petyr just wanted to work everyone else. When the town started growing so did the tension between the two of them. Ned was a good honest fellow, it grated him the way Petyr was always running schemes on everyone. He was the only one that would ever actually call him on his shit. So about a year after we arrived Ned ended up getting elected sheriff. It was something he didn't really want, but he accepted it. He didn't want to see the town completely fall into lawlessness, he had his family to consider.

Things were ok for a while. Those two would get in to it now and again, but Cat did a lot to keep them civil. Plus I don't think Petyr wanted her to get too sour on him. Everyone said he was always sweet on her. But then Cat died trying to birth her fifth kid, and all hell broke loose. Ned was distraught of course, but so was Petyr. And he made it known he blamed Ned for it. Blamed him for forcing so many children on his wife. Story goes that Petyr was so angry that he went to the Apache shortly after, had them place a curse on poor Ned. He wanted to devastate him the way he'd been devastated."

"Told you they was cursed," Tormund said.

"No one really believes in Indian curses, do they?" Sam interrupted.

"Town seems split on it. Though it don't seem to matter how many people believe it or not. All I know is that not more than six months later the youngest Stark, Bran, he was out riding when his horse spooked at a rattler and threw him. Broke his neck and killed him."

Jon knew some of this, but it was still hard to hear. The notion that is was all tied to some curse however was new to him. It didn't seem right that one family should suffer so much.

"The girls took it hard, Ned too. Can't say I blame them, that's just too much loss in such a short time. So he stepped back from his sheriff duties a bit so he could focus on the girls. And Petyr, well he took full advantage of Ned's distractions and grieving," Theon continued, "Started contracting with the Lannister Gang. You heard of them right?" Jon had, they were a known outlaw gang that had once ruled the region. He recalled the stories from some of the other men in their regiment about how the army had chased them across Missouri, Kansas and Oklahoma on and off for years. "He used them to shake down most of the business owners here. Anything to make a buck seems to be the Baelish motto. Anyhow, once Ned returned to his sheriffin' duties, he tried to crack down on the them. It almost worked. They even left town for a time. But that wasn't good enough for Ned, he called a posse and pursued them, said it was the only way to keep everyone safe in the long run. He even managed to arrest one of the brothers. Of course part of the gang came back, broke the brother out of jail. Then they laid in wait. Shot Ned dead when he came to the jail the next morning."

"It felt like a public execution. He bleed out in the street right in front of the jail," Tormund said.

"That's awful," Sam murmured.

"It was, but it gets worse. I mean one would've thought whatever curse Baelish had cast would've been satisfied. We all knew he was. But they say that an Apache curse can sometimes take on a mind of its own, and those who believe in them say they only grow stronger the more blood they're fed. And that curse had been fed quite a bit."

"Well can't it lose power over time too? How long ago was all that?" Sam asked. Jon could see that Theon's tale was working him up a bit.

"Ned's been dead what, two or three years now?" Theon asked looking at Tormund.

"Bout that," he said before turning to Jon and adding, "Hard to recall sometimes, time's funny here, years all run together," as if that explained things.

Jon looked at Sam who was shaking his head at him. It was clear from his friend's expression that he wanted to leave, not just the bar, but the town. He wanted Jon to forget he'd ever even seen Sansa Stark.

"You mentioned Sansa's mad at you because of Robb," Jon said. "What happened there?"

Theon looked away, his face closing off, his features becoming a bit dark. It was clear out of all the deaths, Robb's seemed to be the one that most affected him.

"Robb did his best to do right by his sisters, Sansa and Arya, keep them all together. They were all alone when their daddy died. He got a discharge from the army and came home as soon as he could. Said he was going to work the claim his parents had settled on. Ned hadn't really ever had much of a chance to work it since he was busy being sheriff. Him and I managed to find a little bit of gold there but not much else.

When it became clear the original claim was likely a bust, Robb and I went to work in the main mine. He and his sisters saved up some money though, few months ago they put a down payment on a new claim just north of their place, named it Winterfell on account of their pa. He loved the snow and the winter, always said that was the one and only thing he truly missed from back east. Robb was planning to quit the main mine so they could start work on that claim, but his last day….. well there was an accident."

Tormund gave a rather loud scoff as Theon took a pause and chugged the whiskey that Pod had just set in front of him.

"Sorry for your loss," Jon said.

"Don't be too sorry for him," Tormund said. Theon looked down at his hands and hung his head in shame. Jon looked at Tormund, the question clear in his expression. "Greyjoy here was the crew's blast man. He was supposed to be on that shift, but he overslept at the whore house. Mining company sent some green pea in his place. That guy ended up being the one that blew the tunnel up, killed 'em boys."

Theon said nothing and just spun the whiskey glass in his hands.

"That's why Sansa doesn't want you around," Jon said.

"Yeah. It's been months and she hasn't even started to forgive me….."

"Just as well don't you think? The way them Starks are going it won't be long till one of them girls falls to the curse," Tormund said.

"What is wrong with you?" Jon asked not hiding the annoyance in his voice.

"Nothing. I just like living a whole lot better than I like dying. This place is already working hard to kill you, I don't need to give it any help."

Jon reckoned he was right, but he couldn't deny the duty he still felt to help. Especially now that he had actually seen Sansa. She had consumed most of his thoughts since he had laid eyes on her this afternoon. He realized Sam was looking at him and shaking his head ever so slightly. Jon raised an eyebrow in response and shrugged slightly. Sam just sighed. Jon realized that he probably needed to let Sam in on the real reason he had chosen Copper Canyon, and soon.

"So how was your first day in our fair city?' Brienne asked as she appeared at the table.

"Just fine thanks. If you have time I'd like to discuss that offer you mentioned earlier," Jon said.

"Wonderful. You met Pod right?" Jon nodded. "Well he's got to go to Taos to help his granny for a spell. So if you're up to it, I can let you have his job till he gets back."

"You ever bartended Snow?" Tormund asked.

"Can't say I have, but I'm willing to learn."

"Well Pod's leaving on the stage next Monday, you have till then to learn what you can from him."

"Alright. What time you want me to come by tomorrow?"

"Be here by three."

"Alright. I thank you ma- Brienne," he said, catching himself before he called her ma'am.

"Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of you evening."

"Alright then, so now that that's settled," Jon said looking between Tormund and Theon, "What else can you tell me about the town?"

xxxxx

He and Sam had walked back to Olenna's from Oathkeepers that night in near silence. Jon could tell Sam was feeling a bit uneasy and overwhelmed with everything they had learned tonight. Jon thought it wise to give his friend some time to process all of it.

"Quite the day," Jon commented as they readied for bed a little while later.

"Do you think they're really cursed? The Starks," Sam asked as Jon sat on his bed pulling off his boots.

"No, I don't."

"Do you really believe that? Or you just saying that 'cause you think the older one is pretty?" Jon tried to laugh off the question but he felt his chest tighten a bit at the mention of Sansa.

"Sam," Jon said after a moment. "I need to tell you something."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to say?"

"Because you always anticipate the worse? It's not a big deal really, and it doesn't really change anything, but it's something you should probably know… I knew Robb Stark."

"What? How?" Sam sputtered as he sat down on his bed and looked at Jon in the faint light.

Jon took a deep breath. "He was in my unit a few years back, back before you got there. He was a good guy, and he saved my life…. A couple times actually." He felt his hand unconsciously reach for the scar on his face. "He use to talk about his family a lot, said his ma use to make these amazing prickly pear pies. The way he talked about them, well it made you feel like you knew them somehow. We were all real sad when his pa got murdered and he left. When I heard he died it seemed like the right thing to do was come check on his sisters."

"So that's why you wanted to come to Copper Canyon?"

"Yeah. I mean we always talked about going west to find our fortunes didn't we? This just happened to be the place that let me kill two birds with one stone. Sorry I didn't tell you before. I guess…. well I kinda thought you'd think it was a fool's errand, or tell me I was crazy."

"You should know by now I'd follow you pretty much anywhere, you're my brother after all."

"Thanks Sam. And you have my word, I won't keep anymore secrets from you."

They were quiet for a bit and finally settled back into their beds. "So we're really going to try and make a go of it here then huh?" Sam asked.

"I'd like to yes…. I'm sorry it's not exactly like you read about in all those books."

"Well it's become painfully clear that reading is far different from doing. There really should be a much larger focus on the heat and the scorpions and the snakes."

Jon laughed softly. "Maybe one day you can write a real how to guide for this place then."

"I've already started taking notes."


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa awoke the next morning with a smile on her lips. She had slept well, experiencing some of the sweetest dreams she'd had in years perhaps. She knew it was foolish to let the grey eyed man affect her so. But there had been something about the way he had looked at her, the way her body had sung when their hands had met. She had never felt anything quite like it before. And even though she couldn't explain why, it had given her a bit of peace, and dare she say, hope.

She lay looking at the ceiling for a moment and sighed. She chastised herself for indulging in the fantasy, while simultaneously hoping the feeling could go on forever.

She took a deep breath and made a decision. "One day won't hurt anything," she whispered. She decided there was no harm in allowing herself one day of fancy. If she wanted to smile and day dream about his dark curls and thoughtful eyes, well it would be alright for today.

She got out of bed, dressed and started on breakfast, placing it on the table as Arya wandered into the main room with a yawn. They ate and spoke about their plans for the day. Sansa had spent the main part of yesterday afternoon washing half the laundry out in the creek that ran near their claim. She wanted to finish the other half today. Arya agreed to help her.

After breakfast they gathered up the remaining dirty laundry bags, loaded them on one of the horses and headed for the creek. Sansa hummed a lively tune as they walked along.

She could tell Arya was regarding her from the corner of her eye with puzzled amusement. "What?" she asked as they came to a stop near the side of the creek.

"Nothing," Arya answered in a false sing songing voice.

"Mmm hmmm."

"It's just, well I don't think I've seen you in THIS good of a mood in months," Arya stated as she started to help unload the bags off the back of the horse.

The dark-haired man flashed in her mind for a moment and she could feel a flush threatening to raise in her cheeks. "I just slept well for once," she said ducking to the other side of the horse before Arya could question why her cheeks were getting red.

"Probably because for once you managed to avoid Petyr while you were in town."

"Yeah, probably." She wished Arya hadn't brought him up, the mention of his name instantly dampened her mood.

Their relationship with Petyr was a strange and twisted thing. And if she thought about it, it had always been that way. Petyr had long tried to style himself as a friend to the Starks. And perhaps he once was. He had once been their mother's oldest friend, even their uncle by marriage for a time. But then had been before, back in Nevada when things had seemed simpler. Or perhaps it was just that she had been younger and didn't understand the dynamics of adult relationships.

But she did remember a time when he had been welcomed in their home. He had regularly come for Sunday dinners, often bringing all the children toys and sweets. That had gone on somewhat even here in Arizona, well at least until their mother had died. She could still remember Catelyn and Rickon's funeral and the way Petyr regarded her father. She was old enough then to clearly see the tension and hostility that existed between the two of them. And it had struck her then that it was not the first time she'd seen those looks. Sometimes she wondered how she'd ever missed it. Anyways, Petyr had said some things to her father after the burial, and it was quickly made known that Petyr was no longer welcomed in their home. Furthermore, their father had told them it was best if they kept their distance from him moving forward.

She hadn't entirely understood it at the time, but she had done as her father requested. It hadn't been that difficult, it wasn't as if they went to town unless Ned took them. But then he had been murdered, and his death had left them in a very precarious position. They were suddenly two girls alone on the frontier. They had little legal standing and few protections. Petyr had almost immediately offered to take them in as his wards. She had almost accepted, but then she thought better of it. She knew there had to be a reason Ned had warned them away from him. She had been clever enough to know an outright refusal would fall on deaf ears. Using her wits and calling in a miracle, she had been able to string him along for a while, insisting they were grateful for his offer and likely would accept, but that they wanted to wait for word from either Robb or their Uncle Benjen before making any legal arrangements.

Thankfully the town had been plunged into some chaos after their father's death, and that had kept him distracted long enough for Robb to send word he was coming home. She thanked god every day that Robb had been able to make it back home before Petyr had gotten too pushy about him becoming their guardian.

Things had been much better with Robb back. Petyr had backed off come when their brother returned. He still inquired after them and their well-being, always letting them know he was there if they needed him, but that was about it. In fact, over the course of the next year he seemed content to just hang around the edges of their lives.

She wished she had appreciated those years, when it had just been the three Starks, a little more. Yes they had mourned their parents and the brothers they had lost, but they had each other, and they were all working together to build their futures without outside interference. At least that is how she liked to remember that time.

About a year after Ned's death she had started to work for Nan, an elder spinster that lived on the edge of town and ran the laundry business. That put her in town more, which of course meant more contact with Petyr. And he seemed rather determined to try and use that opportunity to re-establish his friendship with the Starks, and perhaps more specifically her. She still remembered her father's words, but she had little choice on being able to follow them. He was the most powerful man in town and he had his finger in more than half the businesses. To offend him would only serve to destroy her livelihood.

So she made the choice to at least be civil and professional with him. He seemed to interpret this as her wanted to be his friend. She didn't bother to correct him. She didn't trust him, not fully, but she knew it was better he think them friends then anything else. His familiarity made her skin crawl some days. It hadn't been lost on her that the older she got, the more her body matured, the more uncomfortable he made her with his lingering glances and unnecessary touching.

By the following year she had taken over the entire business from Nan, who had finally decided to move to Tucson to be near her sister. Things had still been tolerable with Petyr at that point. But then Robb had died, and Petyr decided to start pursuing her again. And his attentions this time seemed rather different. He no longer interested in being her guardian, though he still expressed an interest in helping her. He had offered her a job initially, telling her a position with him would pay far more and let her support herself and Arya worry free. She had promptly declined it, telling him the laundry served her well and she had plans to further the business soon.

She had done her best to be vague, but recently he had learned that her plans included a desire to open a seamstress shop in town, and so last month he had offered to cover the cost for her to rent a space. She managed to decline that offer as well. There was no way she wanted to be beholden to Petyr Baelish. Because despite his smooth words and attempts to seem caring, she was well away of the rumors and whispers around town about the fact that he had cursed her father, and by extension her family.

They had only discussed it once, shortly after Robb had died and the rumors had started to swirl once more. Petyr, of course, denied it. Blaming the whole story of the curse on petty gossip and jealousy, the story created simply to drive a wedge between the two founding families of the town. When she had asked why anyone would want to do such a thing when he and her father had both done so much for the town, he had gotten angry with her for even bringing it up. He had gone as far as grabbing her by the arms and shaking her, demanding to know why she would want to believe such a terrible thing when all he had ever done for her or her family was to try and help them. He had asked her if she thought she could survive here if such a wedge was actually allowed to form, if she decided she wanted nothing more to do with him.

"Do you think anyone would side against me? Blame me for your troubles?" he asked her, his face mere inches from her. "If you really want to believe such terrible things than keep your distance from me and see how things go." She realized then it had been misguided to ask him about it. She had just buried her brother and had not expected this reaction from him. He had seemed spiteful and hateful in that moment, like he might actually figure out a way to ruin her off. And despite her best efforts not to, she had started to cry. He had seemed stunned by her tears and they seemed to wash some of his rage away. He had let go of her arms and drawn her close then. Shushing her and apologizing for upsetting her. And when she had stopped crying he had let her go. The next time she saw him, he acted as if the conversation had never occurred.

It had always frustrated her the way the curse nonsense was held against the Starks far more than it was held against Petyr. But after that incident she had decided to forgive most people for it. Especially since she herself started to make such a show of tolerating him. She couldn't really blame the others for not wanting to cross him, not after she had seen the malice he hid behind his eyes.

That incident was the same reason she had eventually come to believe he had had a hand in both her father and brother's deaths. She had no proof of this, just whispered rumors that some were brave enough to tell her. But there had been something in his expression when she had asked him about the origin of the curse that had lead her to believe he was quite capable of such schemes.

Some days she hated that they had to continue to live here. She hated seeing his smug face several times a week. She hated the way half the town looked at them with distrust or fear. But sadly, she knew they were hopelessly trapped. Even if they had the means to leave, they had nowhere to go. Their father's family was all dead, as was their mother's. The father's only brother, Uncle Benjen, had died last year, slain in the Dakota Territory fighting the Sioux. Her mother's sister and brother were both long dead, Aunt Lysa, having died in Nevada mere weeks before the Starks had arrived expecting to be greeted by her and Petyr. And Edmure had met his fate on a wagon train passing through Oklahoma around the same time.

But even if they had the means and someone left to go to, she knew Petyr wouldn't just let them go. He had a vast network of connections, someone would report their whereabouts to him and she had no doubt he would eventually show up there too. It had become increasing clear to her in the last several months that he was possessive of her, even if he did try to present it under the guise of just wanting to do right by her mother. She was rather certain that he was the main reason, not the curse, that not a single man in town had ever shown the least bit of interest in her.

"Stop thinking about him," Arya ordered, breaking her from her thoughts of Petyr and how he was ruining her life.

"I wasn't."

"You were. All I can say is hopefully yesterday was the start of a trend. The less of him you see, the better."

"We both know we're not that lucky," Sansa sighed as she unloaded the last bag from the back of the horse.

Arya just grunted and then they began to open the bags. "Ugh!" Arya groaned a moment later. Sansa looked up at her. "Is that blood?" Arya asked as she held up a shirt from the bag she'd just opened.

"Probably," Sansa shrugged. Arya groaned again. "Now come on. What is it you always say?"

"Better blood than shit," Arya quipped. They laughed. She let the thoughts of Petyr drift from her mind they started with the washing.

"We gonna be able to make the mortgage Friday?" Arya asked several minutes later as she dropped a pair of underpants back in a bag and decided to wash the bag of sheets from The Summer Isles instead.

"Yeah, we'll be alright for another month. It'd be nice if that check from the mining company actually showed up though." They were still owed some money from the death policy Robb had taken out on himself when he had taken the mining job. The problem was that the stage kept getting robbed before the check made it to them, or at least that was the story the mining company kept telling them. With that money she'd be able to get a little ahead on the mortgage. And more importantly she could finally rent or buy a place in town. The visibility and the addition of a full-service proper tailoring station would significantly increase her profits, she was sure of it.

"Seems like there's never anything good on the stage for us," Arya groused. Sansa's thoughts instantly went to the dark-haired stranger and a smile crept to her lips. "What?" Arya asked when she noticed the smile.

"Nothing." Arya raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "I was just thinking our luck's gotta turn at some point, doesn't it? I would like to think the universe will balance the scales back eventually."

"Maybe…. but if it does I think I'd prefer it help us with Winterfell."

Arya was doing her best to try and work the claim herself. It was slow going, but occasionally she was able to come up with an ounce or two of gold or silver. What they really needed to do was to blast the upper bluff open. If they could get a couple men and some equipment they might actually be able to make a real go of it. But as it stood now, they had nothing to spare for additional equipment, and they certainly couldn't hire help. These were the moments that sometimes made her regret the way she had thrown Theon out. Not that one man would make all the difference, but at least it would be something.

"I can try to help you up there tomorrow if you'd like. The fabric wasn't in for a couple of my new orders and some of the mending can wait a day."

"Alright, if you want." Arya knew Sansa disliked being out in the heat breaking rocks and sifting dirt, but she always appreciated it when she offered.

She and Arya never discussed truly abandoning the claim, but she couldn't help but wonder on days like this, the days leading up to when they had to pay the bank, if it won't be better to just walk away. Living in town and running a business there was a far surer thing than the possibility of gold in "them there hills." But then she also knew Arya would never agree. She and Robb had been convinced there was a vein somewhere within the claim, all they needed to do was find it. Sansa knew Arya wasn't ready to give up on their family's dream of striking it rich. Sansa had long ago given up on such dreams, but for now she would continue to indulge them for Arya's sake.

They spent the rest of the morning finishing the wash and part of the early afternoon hanging it to dry. That evening, tired from the long day, they ate dinner in relative silence. Afterwards Sansa went to collect the wash from the line and Arya went to milk the cow and put the chickens in the coop. They sat on the porch after that with a lantern, reading while the darkness settled in and the coyotes howled.

Eventually they turned in for the night, bidding each other goodnight, they settled in their rooms. As Sansa closed her eyes she thought once again of the grey eyed man. She wondered when and if she would see him again. For all she knew he had likely just been passing through. With her luck she knew that was the most likely scenario. She told herself this was why it was foolish to hope, but then she reminded herself that she had already given herself permission to spend today mooning over him, and the day was not over just yet. She pushed the negative thoughts away and gave a little sigh as she closed her eyes. With any luck she'd at least get to see him again in her dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

Yesterday Tormund had come by and offered to introduce Sam to Dr. Targaryen, or Doc T, as everyone called him. Sam had hopes that the doc would take him on as an apprentice despite the lack of formal medical school. Jon had tried to reassure him that the doc would be lucky to have him, but it hadn't seemed to work based on the amount of hours Jon had spent listening to Sam toss, mutter and turn last night. Tormund had come for him shortly after breakfast and as a result, Jon found he had the morning to himself. He decided to walk over to the general store to get a few things. He stifled a yawn as he crossed the street and wondered if he should grab a nap before his shift at the saloon this afternoon.

When he entered the store, he found it empty. He paused and then he heard voices coming from the back room.

"I need you to deliver this fabric to Miss Sansa, she's been waiting on it."

"No way Mr. Luwin. My ma wouldn't want me going out there. She says it ain't safe to be near them Starks no more."

"That is nonsense. You are my employee and you need to do as you're told."

"I can't. I can't upset my ma."

"Hello!" Jon called out.

An older man came out of the back and met him at the counter.

"Hello there, how can I help you?" he asked.

"I was thinking I might be able to help you. I heard you saying you had a delivery for the Starks?"

"I do, but I don't think I know you. You know the Starks?"

"I know Theon, and it just so happens that I'm headed out to go look at a claim right by them."

"You're wanting to buy the Cerwyn place?" the shopkeeper asked, eyeing him with a bit of doubt.

"Possibly, saving that decision until after I see it of course." He didn't like lying, but this one was harmless and at the moment it was a far easier explanation for his assistance.

"Hmm," the shop keeper said as he mulled over the offer. "Well normally I won't even consider this, but I do need to get this to Sansa. I had promised her it would be in last week. You know that boy back there is no help. I only hired him as a favor to his ma, lesson learned."

"Well as I said, I'm headed out that way and I'd be happy to drop it off for you as a favor."

"Well alright then, I'd be much obliged. Thank you Mr….."

"Snow."

Mr. Luwin chuckled. "Ironic name here in the desert."

"Suppose it is."

The man smiled before he went to fetch and wrap the bolt of fabric meant for Sansa. Jon took it from him and headed down to the livery. He needed a horse and Theon. Luckily, he'd be able to find both in the same place.

"Hey Jon," Theon greeted him as he entered the stable. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you'd do me a favor and take me out to the Stark claim."

xxxxxxx

It had taken a bit of cajoling, but Theon had finally reluctantly agreed. He made an excuse to his boss about needing a few hours for a personal matter and then rented Jon a horse. The road out of the stables together and soon enough they were entering the Stark property.

Jon wasn't exactly sure what he planned to say. He told himself he was doing this out of greater sense of duty, but he couldn't deny that those blue eyes he had looked into the other day were calling to him like a siren's song.

When they entered the yard of Winterfell, a small dark haired girl, followed by a dog, came out to greet them as they were dismounting their horses.

"Theon?" the girl called in mild surprise.

"Hey there Arya."

"What you doing out here? Sansa ain't gonna to be too pleased to see you."

"I know, but maybe it's time her and I started talking again," Theon said tentatively.

The girl, Arya, seemed to be regarding them careful and then finally shrugged. "Well alright then, come on inside," she said.

They hitched the horses to the fence posts and followed Arya and the dog inside.

"So where is Sansa exactly?" Theon asked. Jon didn't know him all that well, but he could tell he sounded nervous.

"Down to the creek. She should be back soon."

As if Arya's words had summoned her, Sansa appeared in the doorway carrying two pails of water. She stopped short when she saw the gathering around the table.

"What's all this?" she asked as she set the pails on the sideboard.

"Not sure yet. Theon and this gentleman just got here," Arya answered.

"That so?" Her tone was prickly as a cactus and she was staring angrily at Theon. She seemed to barely register Jon.

Theon swallowed thickly and looked nearly pained. "Sansa," he began.

"Why are you here?" she asked. Jon saw an angry flush creeping up her neck. Her eyes were a darker blue then he recalled. He wondered if the shade always varied with her emotions.

"I, uh, I didn't mean to upset you," Theon sputtered.

"You got a lot of nerve Theon Greyjoy. What makes you think it's alright for you to just show up here? To bring strangers out here?" she asked. She was still ignoring Jon.

"I know I'm sorry. It's - well he insisted."

"That so?" she began. "Well mister, you must be either brave or simple to be insisting on an audience here. Don't you know we're - " She stopped the moment she finally turned to fully acknowledge Jon. He heard her inhale sharply and saw her eyes go wide, her rant died on her lips. Her mouth stayed open the tiniest bit and the angry flush that was on her neck, now bloomed across her cheeks.

"I don't believe in all that," Jon said meeting her gaze. "A man makes his own luck and his own way in the world." He saw that some of her anger had bled out of her eyes, a twinge of sadness and panicked embarrassment had replaced it. Everyone stood quiet for a long charged moment. Jon and Sansa held each other's gaze.

"You know our pa use to say something just like that," Arya said softly, ending the quiet in the room.

"And that's probably why he's buried out at Boot Hill," Sansa added matter of factly, her gaze shifting to the window. There was no mistaking the sadness in her tone. It made Jon want to reach for her.

"So what brought you out here mister?" Arya asked pulling his thoughts away from Sansa.

"I was just delivering this for Mr. Luwin," Jon said pointing to the package on the table. "It's your fabric."

"Oh," Sansa said, her cheeks turning an even deeper red. "Let me apologize for my shortness," she said after a moment, "I think the heat might have made me a bit ornery this morning."

"It's quite alright," Jon said.

"I'm sorry, but what did you say your name was?" she asked him as she studied his face.

"Jon Snow," he answered and held out his hand. Sansa regarded it for a moment and then took it. Jon swore he felt a jolt of lighting run up his arm as their flesh met.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Snow."

Xxxxxxx

"Jon Snow."

The dark haired mystery man had a name. She couldn't believe she hadn't realized it was him until she had already been so rude. But then she had been blinded by anger when she had come back from the creek and found Theon standing in her kitchen. Seeing him always reminded her that Robb was dead. When it had first happened, she had wished it had been Theon who had died in that mine. She had told him that in the immediate aftermath. It had just been so much easier to be angry with him than with Robb or the circumstances that had led to his death. She had recently started to feel guilty about that, and for some reason that her also made her angry. She didn't like feeling guilty, and she didn't like hurting people either. Theon had practically been raised as her brother after all. Yes, sometimes he made stupid decisions, but he would never have intentionally meant for Robb to be harmed. She knew both her parents and Robb would have been disappointed in the way she had treated him these last few months. Seeing him before her now, looking so sorry and small, well not for the first time she wondered if perhaps it was time she started working on forgiving him. Her anger, based on what had just occurred, clearly wasn't just hurting him.

"Would you care to stay for lunch?" Sansa asked as she released his hand. She saw Jon glance at Theon. "The invitation is open to both of you."

"Are – are you sure?" Theon asked cautiously.

"Yes. And maybe after you and I could talk about a couple things." Theon just blinked at her. She couldn't smile at him, not yet anyways, but she could extend this olive branch.

"Jon?" Theon asked, sounding rather unsure.

"I have the time. Lunch would be nice," he answered for them both. Theon just nodded.

So the two men stayed for an early lunch. Jon told them a bit about himself. He had grown up in an orphanage back east, joining the army as soon as he looked old enough to pass for eighteen. "It's why I grew the beard," he had told them. He told them he had spent most of his time stationed in the middle of the country. He explained he recently had been discharged and had come here with his friend, Sam. Arya had been enthralled. Sansa could tell she'd taken an immediate liking to him, which she showed by asking him a million questions. Jon didn't seem bothered by it, even when Arya's questions had gotten a bit invasive.

Sansa had felt a slight pang of envy at the way they were already so at ease with one another. She still felt a bit awkward due to the way she had treated him when he had arrived. Though if he was bothered by it, he wasn't letting on. He had smiled at her more than once and complimented her cooking, but for whatever reason she couldn't completely let her embarrassment go. Plus, she couldn't stop thinking about exactly what she was going to say to Theon after this meal.

"Our brother was in the army too. Just like you. But he didn't like to talk about it. How many Indians did you kill?" Arya asked towards the end of the meal.

"Arya!" Sansa cried.

"What? It's a valid question."

"No more questions! God, I'm sorry," Sansa said.

"Don't worry about it," Jon said. He could see how on edge she seemed. He realized he was unlikely to get a chance to talk to her in private today.

They finished eating soon after and Arya asked if she could give Jon a brief tour of the upper bluffs. Sansa agreed once Arya promised to not ask him a million more personal questions. She told herself she was being a proper big sister. But deep down but she didn't like the idea of Arya getting to know him so well before she got a chance herself. Perhaps it was a tiny bit childish, but it was also a smart precaution, he was still a stranger after all.

"So I guess I should be saying thank you," Theon said quietly as they stood on the porch and watched the other two head off up the trail, Nymeria running back and forth near them barking excitedly.

She turned and looked at him in confusion. "For what?" she asked.

"For not shooting me on sight."

"Theon…" Did he really think she hated him that much? The expression he gave her told her that he likely did, at least partially. "Think nothing of it. It would've been a waste of good ammo, plus I'd have been stuck with the clean up," she said in an attempt at a joke that fell a bit flat.

He regarded her for a moment and then gave her a weak smile. "Fair enough." They held each other's gaze for another moment and then Sansa nodded and went back inside to finish clearing the table.

Theon came in a couple minutes later, barely looking at her and gripping his hat tightly. She stopped cleaning and looked at him and waited. "Do you still hate me?" he finally managed to ask.

His words cut her a little. She had hated him, but did she still? She took a deep breath as she looked in his sad down turned eyes. She saw remorse and pain there. She let out the breath. She knew then that it was time for them to move forward from this as best they could. "I know I said a lot to you right after it happened. But I've come to realize recently that I don't think I meant it all. I meant some of it mind you, but not all of it. So no, I don't hate you so much anymore."

Theon held her gaze. He seemed to square his shoulders a bit, as if the weight that had been pushing them down had been removed. "That's fair. It's probably even more than I deserve."

Sansa looked at him and could tell he was being genuine. After a moment she gave him a sad smile. She turned and poured them each a glass of water and motioned for him to take a seat.

"I've been needing to ask you about some things for a while now," she said once they were both seated at the table.

"Alright."

"The night before Robb died, I need you to tell me about it. How much did you drink?"

Theon looked down at his hands and slumped like the weight had returned. "I'm so so terribly sorry for –"

"Theon stop," she said softly. "Look at me." He did. "This isn't about me being angry anymore. I just – there are a few things I need to know about this so I can make my own peace. So help me out, please."

"Alright," he agreed. "Well it's like I tried to tell you before, I was shooting pool at the Landing. I had one, maybe two whiskeys. I didn't let myself get too drunk there because that's when the hustlers move in and take advantage of you. I was getting ready to leave when Roz from The Triple P approached me. I ended up back there with her." He looked uncomfortable now. He took a drink of water so he won't have to look at her.

"I know what goes on in a cathouse Theon, I wash the sheets for several of them."

Theon choked on the water and started to cough. Once he regained control, he went on. "Well after we were done with our….. transaction, I told her I needed to go. Everyone knows it's never a good idea to sleep over at The Triple P." Sansa nodded, even she knew that. "Well she asked me to stay a bit longer, offered to do a service on the house. She offered me a drink, next thing I knew it was morning and everyone was running down the street yelling about the explosion."

"Do you recall if you saw Petyr that night? Was he hanging around?"

"I don't remember, maybe. I mean those are his places. But what you are getting' at here?"

"Maybe nothing."

"Sansa." Theon was studying her now. She could see it in his eyes that the meek apologetic man was slowly being replaced by the self-assured, sometimes overly confident, boy she's grown up with it.

"I just wanted to know is all. I mean it's not as if you and I have really ever discussed what happened that night. I just thought it would be good if I knew more about it, might help me let it go."

She could tell my Theon's expression he wasn't buying her lie. "You should leave it lie Sansa," he said, his voice full of concern and warning.

"Leave what lie? I don't think I have any idea what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. This is about Petyr, isn't it?" Sansa looked away for a moment. After a few beats she looked back and caught Theon's eye. "I know that look," he went on. "It's the same one Robb got after the Lannisters were arrested. If Petyr thinks you're a threat….." And then he stopped. Sansa could see the panic rising in him. There was clearly something he was hiding.

"What do you know Theon?" she asked as her heart began to speed up.

"I don't know nothing. I told you, leave it lie." Sansa recognized the tone, it was the same big brother one Robb had often used.

"You owe me the truth." She said it harshly and unrelenting. She would not have him keep this from her. Her eyes bore into him, letting him know she would not leave it be. It took a long moment, but she finally saw his resolve give way.

"Fuck," he said with a sigh. She softened her expression a bit but continued to look at him, waiting for him to speak. "Alright." He sighed again. "Robb got into it with Petyr the week before the explosion."

"What do you mean got into it? About what?"

"He got a telegram from some marshal over in New Mexico. They said one of Lannisters was willing to talk about your daddy's death in order to cut a deal. They implied there was a conspiracy."

"A conspiracy? With who?"

"They didn't say. No one was agreeing to talk until a deal had been written up and signed."

"And Robb talked to Petyr about this?" Sansa asked in disbelief. Robb had little use or patience for Petyr, especially after some of the rumors and gossip she knew he'd been told. So she couldn't imagine he'd have taken him into his confidence on something like this.

"No, well I mean I don't think he meant to, but he was so pissed."

"Wait, are you saying Robb thought Petyr….. Robb thought Petyr was somehow in on the conspiracy." Theon nodded gravely. "But then why on earth would he….." She was at a loss for words. Robb could be impulsive, but she hadn't ever thought him so reckless.

"He had planned to leave it alone, at least until there was more evidence, till they named a name… But then Petyr got into it with Marge and Loras over something, I can't even remember what it was now. And you know how sweet Robb was on Marge…. So of course he got in Petyr's face, told him his days running this town were numbered. Said he couldn't wait for everyone to know the truth. He didn't say what that truth was, but Petyr had looked spooked. And the then the following week Robb was dead."

Sansa sat there stunned. She and Robb had discussed their feelings about Petyr occasionally. Clearly they knew there was no love lost between their father and him, and they had tossed about the idea that Petyr might have been involved, but this was the first time she'd ever heard there might be possible evidence of it.

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" she asked.

"Robb probably didn't want to worry you. I mean, he knew you had to make nice with Petyr cause of your job, and well there was no actual proof yet. If you ask me I wasn't even sure if he even fully believed it himself. It won't be above a Lannister to lie to save their own neck after all….. I might've told you sooner, but well you and me….. well we haven't exactly been on speaking terms till this moment… Plus…. Well, I didn't really want to be responsible for sending another Stark to their end."

Sansa could understand that. What would she have done with the information anyways? It wasn't as if the Lannisters had actually given Petyr up. The main members of the gang had all hanged right around the time Robb had died. A lynch mob had seen to that.

They sat there quietly for a while. She had no idea what to do with this new information. It essentially confirmed everything she had long suspected about Petyr, and yet there was little she could do with the information. She looked out the door and saw Arya and Jon coming down the trail.

"Don't mention a word of this to anyone, especially not Arya, you hear me?" she said as she rose from the table.

Theon looked at her. She could see the mixture of regret and relief fighting for dominance in his eyes. He nodded reluctantly as he said, "I hear you."


	5. Chapter 5

Every time Jon had thought about the Starks over these last few days, he had felt the worry and guilt gnawing at his insides grow just a little bit more. One might find that strange considering he hadn't seen them since the day he had been out to Winterfell with Theon. But that also meant he still hadn't been able to explain to Sansa or Arya how he knew Robb and why he'd chosen to come to Copper Canyon. Sam had suggested he was making that fact a bigger deal than necessary. And Jon thought perhaps he was right. On its own that fact probably wasn't that big of an issue. His worry wasn't over the fact itself, it was due to the things he heard over the last few days. Those things had made him wonder if his news would be well received.

Over the last several days he had listened and overheard. He had gleaned quite a bit of information about the town, including that fact that he would not be the first man in the life of the Stark girls to offer assistance in honor of a dead relative. And the reality of that had given him some pause. He did not want to remind Sansa of Petyr Baelish. Especially when he thought about the way Sansa had looked at him during that lunch at Winterfell, in a series of soft cautious, and dare he say hopeful, glances. She had already damn near stolen his heart the first time he'd seen her, that lunch had just sealed the deal. And as a result, he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him any other way.

He had originally planned to tell both girls about his connection to them the day he'd gone out to their claim. In fact, he had almost told Arya when they had gone up to the bluffs, but then decided against it. Sansa was the oldest and she deserved to know, if not before Arya, then at least at the same time. He had thought he would talk to them about it when he and Arya returned. But upon entering the house after their walk, he had quickly sensed that whatever conversation had gone on between Sansa and Theon, it had been of a rather serious and heavy nature. Sansa had looked deep in thought, bordering on the edge of upset. She had tried to hide it with a smile, but Jon had seen through it in the way she had wrung her hands repeatedly as she appeared to be trying to puzzle something out. He had looked to Theon for an explanation, but Theon offered none. And so Jon had decided to keep quiet as well. He knew he owed them the truth, and he had every intention of telling it. He just wanted to make sure that when he did, it was in a way that would not drive them away from him.

It was their first Sunday in town, and he and Sam had agreed to attended church services at Olenna's invitation, or insistence depending on how you viewed it. She had also insisted they attend the picnic luncheon in the pavilion right after. She said it was a good way for them meet more people. Jon thought his position at Oathkeepers exposed him to plenty of people, but he already knew better than to disagree with Olenna.

The gathering was good sized. And though it was warm out, in the shade, it was bearable. There were people there they already knew rather well, Doc T, Brienne, Pod, Theon, the Stark girls, Olenna, and many they didn't. Only a couple of minutes had passed before Olenna formally introduced them to her grandchildren, Margaery and Loras. Margaery had greeted them warmly been then had been quickly pulled away to assist with set up. They chatted pleasantly with Loras for several minutes before he decided to introduce them to some of the employees from High Garden.

"And this is Gilly," Loras said. "She does quite a bit of our cooking as well as almost all the cleaning. Gilly this is Jon and Sam. They're new here, been staying with grandmother."

"Pleasure to meet you," Gilly said with a shy smile.

"Same," Jon said and then glanced at Sam. Sam nodded in agreement, his cheeks turning a bit more red.

Jon did his best to suppress a smile. It was easy to see Sam was smitten by the way he couldn't talk his eyes off Gilly and kept nodding. Jon was used to Sam being awkwardly tongue tied, but this was a whole new level. Gilly just giggled and then excused herself when someone nearby called her name.

Arya came over right then. And asked him and Sam to come with her so she could introduce him to the blacksmith's apprentice, and her good friend, Gendry. Gendry had a bright smile and a strong handshake. Jon liked him and thought he seemed like a rather decent fellow.

"Gendry's very talented. I think he's even surpassed his teacher," Arya said. At her words Gendry had just smiled, but Jon caught a slight twinkle in his eye.

"If you need your horses shoed, it's probably best to let me be the one to do it," Gendry said after a moment, keeping his voice low. "Shoe's less likely to split with me."

"We won't be bothering you for that," Sam said. Gendry looked confused for a moment, and Jon worried he might think they were rejected his offer, so Jon quickly explained they currently had no horses. Gendry thought that it was slightly appalling not to have your own horse and said as much, which had in turn earned him an elbow in the side from Arya. In that moment Jon thought he possibly detected a tiny cautious spark of something more than friendship between them, but he knew better than to draw attention to it and embarrass them, or himself if he was wrong.

Tormund appeared at their side suddenly. "Afternoon," he greeted them with a smile as Sam jumped a bit.

"I don't believe I saw you in church," Sam said as he tried to recover from the fright.

Gendry laughed. "It's because he thinks he's already holy enough."

"That's right," Tormund laughed and stroked his beard. "If you haven't noticed, I'm already plenty kissed by holy fire."

"Oh please, if you've been kissed by any fire, it was hell fire," Brienne quipped as she walked past them.

"Maybe you should kiss me and see for yourself what kind of fire is in me," Tormund retorted. Brienne half snorted, half groaned and kept walking.

Jon suppressed a laugh and shook his head. He watched her join the group of women, which included Sansa, on the far side of the pavilion. He hadn't been able to stop his eyes from wandered to her frequently. Even when he had been getting introduced to people earlier, he found himself looking past the strangers to watch the way the sun occasionally caught in her hair. He thanked god she didn't catch him every time, but when she did, she would just smile back at him shyly. He hoped he'd get a chance to talk to her, possibly even alone, after lunch. Frustratingly it won't be possible before because she had been rather preoccupied with Margaery and most of the other women setting up all the food.

A moment later someone rang a bell, snapping him from his trance. Everyone moved towards the long tables. By the time he had shuffled through the food line and let Tormund lead him to a seat at a nearby table, he realized he would be at the opposite ended of the pavilion from where Sansa was eating.

He felt a pang of disappointment, but he decided quickly that it was best not to let that overshadow the fact that he was actually having a good time. He felt rather at home among all these different folks. And they were all quite different, old, young, business owners and workers, and yet they all seemed to fit together. It seemed this place was one where someone really could belong no matter who they were or what they had done in the past. He realized he hadn't felt this hopefully about a place since his mother had died. Tormund called his name then, pulling him from his contemplation. He looked up and answered him. From the corner of his eye he could see Sansa looking at him with a rather quizzical expression. He wondered then what kind of expression he had been wearing while he was thinking.

When everyone finished eating, the tables were cleared and everyone milled around talking. The children ran about, playing in the patch of rock and dirt that ran along the side of the pavilion. Jon found himself standing alone for the first time since the start of the gathering. He watched in amusement as Sam was trying to work up the courage to move towards Gilly. He hovered on the edge of the group she was standing in. Jon wasn't sure if his red cheeks and sweat were from the heat or anxiety. Sam looked to him for a moment and Jon made a subtle motion of encouragement. Sam gave him a quick curt nod and then made an attempt to join the conversation. Jon smiled when the group opened a little to allow Sam in. A moment later he felt someone walking towards him and turned to see who it was.

"You seem like you're fitting in rather well," Sansa greeted him with a warm smile.

"You think so?"

"I do. I mean you've been commanding an audience all day. In fact, I was surprised to find you alone just now." Jon smiled at that. He didn't really think of himself as someone that attracted attention. In fact as a child he'd done his best to go as unnoticed as possible.

"It's just that I'm new. I'm sure my novelty will wear off soon enough."

"I highly doubt that," she said and then blushed. He felt the tug of an amused smile in the corner of his lip. "I - I just meant that I haven't heard anyone say a bad word about you."

"Well, that's good to hear I suppose." He looked away for a moment to allow her to recover. He didn't want her to feel the need to flee to hide her embarrassment. "This is a lot of fun. Do you all do this every week?" he asked finally looking at her again.

"Not during the summer. Gets too hot. In fact, this might be close to the last one until things cool off come fall."

"Well shoot." Sansa laughed softly. "I was hoping for more. This has been an easy way to get introduced to people."

"It'll be alright. This is kinda the core group anyways. I mean the invite is always open to the whole congregation, but these are typically the only ones that show up. Was there someone specifically you were hoping to see?"

Jon stopped himself from saying, "No, only you," instead just shaking his head.

"So what do you think of our town so far?" Sansa asked.

"So far so good. I rather like it here. Still settling in a bit with the new job, but Brienne's been great."

"That she is. I've known her for quite some time now. She was rather good friends with our mother."

"She's mentioned that. I figured that's probably why she's so defensive of you all."

"Defensive?" Sansa asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

"Yeah, like she doesn't tolerate talk of –" Jon stopped himself as his brain suddenly registered what his mouth was about to say. He couldn't believe he was bringing up the curse in front of her.

"Talk of what?" Sansa asked, her voice now a bit harsher. He could feel her withdrawing from him, her guard going up.

"Talk of nonsense. I mean you know how she is," he said trying to recover.

"I suppose I do," she said, but he could tell a wall had gone up. This was not going how he wanted it to.

He ran his hand into his hair and looked away for a moment trying to pull his wits back together before he said anything else without thinking. His gaze fell to where the children were playing. One of the youngest ones, a cherubic looking blonde boy, was toddling unsteadily along the edge of the landscaped area, near a large jojoba bush. Jon watched him for a second or two before something near the base of the bush caught Jon's eye. It took him only a second to realize it was a rattlesnake, coiled around itself. The boy seemed to see it as well, but due to his age he seemed to lack the understanding that the snake could kill him. The boy squealed in near delight and the snake raised its head. Jon couldn't hear the rattle over everyone's conversation, but he sensed it. He knew calling out would only startle the boy and everyone else, making it more likely the snake would strike before anything could be done. And so his body reacted almost on instinct. He drew his pistol quickly. He heard Sansa inhale sharply in surprise as he pulled the trigger. A woman screamed as the bullet left his gun.

The bullet met the snake just as it moved to strike. The boy fell backwards and sat shocked as the snake's head dropped less than two inches from his feet. Everyone in the area stood frozen, shocked into silence. The only movement for several moments were their heads moving from Jon to the snake and back to Jon. Finally the boy began to wail, breaking the spell over the gathering. People began to move again as his mother rushed forward to comfort him.

Several people moved towards Jon. Tormund was the first to speak. "Did you really just shot the head clean off that damn snake?"

Jon said nothing as he put his pistol back in his holster. People quickly started to titter among themselves. Sansa was still staring at him in shock. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and exposed.

"Damn lucky shot," Theon said walking over and clapping Jon on the shoulder.

"Oh that's not luck," Sam said pushing to the front of the crowd to be closer to Jon. "Jon's an excellent shot. Always has been. Best marksman in the whole regiment actually."

The mother and father of the child appeared next, moving to the front of the crowd to thank him. After that it seemed nearly every person there was moving in to thank him for saving the boy or to marvel at his marksmanship. Jon started to feel slightly uncomfortable with all the attention. Worse, Sansa had moved away to allow the others space to engage with him. He could feel the opportunity to speak with her slipping away.

By the time he was able to get free from the throng of people, she was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Arya. He moved outside the pavilion and was able to find Gendry. He asked after the sisters.

"They took off. Sansa said she had a lot of work to get finished. They did tell me to say goodbye for them though. Said they'd see you around," he informed him. "Oh and Arya would like some shooting lessons."

"Of course she would," he said trying to jest even as the feeling of disappointment wash over him. So much for telling the truth. He realized the longer this dragged on the more awkward it would be when he did finally tell them why he was here. He sighed and looked down Main Street in the direction of Winterfell. Apparently that lucky shot had used up all his luck for the day.


	6. Chapter 6

Tormund came by the following day. Despite their protests, he was still determined to show them some of the land that could be available to them if they wished to stake a claim. After several minutes of back and forth he finally admitted he got a commission from the mining company for every claim he helped register. Jon decided they could humor him and at least let him show them the land. And perhaps it won't be a complete waste of time. After all, once Pod returned he would need to figure out something else to do with himself if he planned to stay here.

They spent the morning riding their horses south and east of town. He showed them several claims. On the way back to town he showed them the entrance to the corporate mine. They rode back into town and dropped the horses at the livery. As they walked out of the stables Tormund suggested they get lunch at High Garden.

"What's wrong with Oathkeepers? We always eat at Oathkeepers," Sam sputtered.

"Loras owes me a free meal to settle a bet." Sam looked unconvinced. "Oh come on, don't you want to try sweet Gilly's cooking?" Tormund cocked in eyebrow in a manner that conveyed he wasn't just speaking of stew.

"I – I-" Sam stammered in embarrassment and looked to Jon.

"You two go on. I think I got too much sun. I'm just going to head back to Olenna's for a bit." Jon knew Sam might be embarrassed right now, but he also knew he needed to overcome it if he wanted to get to know Gilly.

"Suit yourself pussy," Tormund said and slung his arm around Sam. "Come on boy. I promise I'll do my best not to embarrass you." Tormund began to lead Sam away and Sam looked at Jon with wide, slightly panicked eyes.

"I'm sorry," Jon mouthed. Sam had just attempted to glower back at him, but Jon knew deep down this might do him some good.

He was thankful Tormund had let him go with little protest, because Jon had only wanted to go back to the boarding house so he could wait for Sansa to come by. He knew she was planning to pick up the laundry this afternoon and he wanted to see her. Maybe if he got lucky he'd be able to talk to her about what he hadn't been able to yesterday.

He had gotten the bag of laundry from Olenna's back porch and sat out front with it to wait on her. He passed the time by whittling a stick while the sun beat down on him. He had managed to create himself a rather sharp spear by the time her cart pulled up. He looked up and their eyes met. "Hey Jon," she said as she hopped down and tied up the mule.

"Hey," he said as he stood up and dropped the stick into the dirt. She moved towards the laundry bag. "Here let me help you," he said quickly picking it up and going to the back of the cart to toss it in.

"Thanks," she said as he came back to stand in front of her. They stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment. Jon wondered if she was thinking about where they had left off in their conversation yesterday. He took a deep breathing while thinking about the best way to start.

"So that was quite a shot yesterday," she said before he could get anything out. "Arya can't stop going on about it."

"It's not as impressive as everyone seems to think. I got lucky is all." Sansa looked at him intently and he saw the skepticism in her eyes.

"You don't impress me as the type of man who would shot into a crowd, towards a child, unless it was a shot you knew you knew you would make."

Jon opened his mouth to rebut her but then quickly closed it. She was right. He may have acted heavily on instinct yesterday, but he rarely took a shot that won't hit its target. He won't endanger people like that. He had a solemn look on his face when a moment later he nodded to indicate he agreed with her.

She smiled a little at that, clearly feeling a bit vindicated. He found he liked the way her eyes brighten when she smiled. He wondered for a moment what Robb would think of his infatuation with his sister.

"Have you always been that good?" she asked.

He thought about it for a moment. He had been shooting since he was small. The man that owned the estate his mother worked on had taught him and had taken him hunting and shooting quite often. The other servants' children had often made comments about extra attention Mr. Targaryen had paid to Jon, he recalled how it had always seemed to annoy the mistress of the estate.

"I suppose I have. I use to trap shoot when I was a boy. Probably why I had rather high marksmanship scores in basic training."

"Right, you were in the army like Robb. Actually, I was wondering if – "

"Sansa dear," came a smooth voice, cutting her off before she could finish her question, "It's so good to finally catch you. I was beginning to worry you might be avoiding me."

Jon watched Sansa's face transform into a blank mask before they both turned to focus their attention on the mustached man he had seen a few days ago exiting the saloon.

"Perish the thought," Sansa answered him sweetly. "Just poor timing. I've been rather busy as of late is all."

"I can see that," the man said giving Jon a once over. "I don't think I've had the pleasure. Petyr Baelish," he said to Jon and extended his hand.

"Jon Snow." He didn't move to shake Petyr's hand. After a moment Petyr dropped his hand, an intrigued smirk playing across his face.

"I think I saw you come in on the coach last week."

"That's right."

"Such a blessing that a man of your skill set would pick our little town to settle in." Jon looked at Baelish with trepidation. "I'm told you saved one of our own yesterday," he continued. "People can't stop going on and on about the tenderfoot that can shot the head off a rattler from fifty paces. That's quite a feat, don't you think so dear?" Sansa nodded. Jon felt his temper flare at the endearment. "You should come on by one of my establishments soon so we can get to know one another a little better. I'll even give you the first drink on the house."

"I'm hardly a tenderfoot and it wasn't nearly fifty paces."

"So modest. Regardless, a free drink's a free drink."

"Thanks, but I'm already pretty partial to Oathkeepers." Petyr seemed momentarily shocked by the rejection but quickly recovered. The two men stood staring at each other, taking each other's measure. Jon could see Sansa starting to worry at her braid from the corner of his eye, her eyes flicking back and forth uncomfortably between the two men.

"Ah that's right, you're the one filling in for Pod. How fortunate for Brienne and yourself that you showed up at just the right time," Petyr said with a tight smile. Jon could feel his own jaw tighten and tick a bit.

"Suppose it is. I'm rather grateful to her for the opportunity."

"It's nice of you to help the old girl out. I'm sure she couldn't afford to be down a bartender." There was a cold edge to Baelish's voice.

"Petyr, did you –" Sansa began.

"Well despite being my competition," Petyr went on over Sansa. "The offer for the drink remains the same. Do try to stop by soon Mr. Snow." He turned his attention away from him then, effectively dismissing Jon. "Sansa dear, might I have a word?"

"Of course. Mr. Snow it was a pleasure seeing you again." Jon could tell she was dismissing him from the conversation as well. He glanced between her and Petyr. When he met her eyes it was clear that she wanted him to go.

"Sure thing Miss Stark, pleasure was all mine," he answered kindly. "Mr. Baelish," he added, his voice much rougher. He couldn't imagine she'd prefer that man's company to his, but he recalled the story Theon had told and Tormund's warning about crossing him.

He stepped back as Petyr offered Sansa his arm and led her down the sidewalk away from Jon. He felt a mixture of anger and jealousy start to boil in his blood. He wanted to stand there and glare, but instead he made himself turn and marched into the boarding house. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from stalking down the street and strangling the man with his bare hands.

xxxxxx

"You know him well?" Petyr asked as he led her in the direction of The Triple P.

"Just met him last week. Seems nice enough, but no, I don't really know him." She could tell Petyr was jealous. She wanted to tell him he had no reason to be, after all she barely knew Jon Snow. Not that that fact stopped the way she felt when he looked at her or talked to her. She wondered if Petyr could tell. Hell, based on his current agitated tone she wondered for a moment if Petyr might be able to tell she had dreamed of Jon and his grey eyes almost every night since she had first met him. She needed to move his thoughts off Jon, it was the safest thing for all of them. "So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked.

"I just wanted to see how things were going. Didn't you owe a payment to the bank today?"

"I did, it's been paid in full." She saw a bit of surprise flash in Petyr's eyes. Since Robb's death he'd asked her every month about the payment, and while she had yet to miss one, he always seemed a bit surprised, and perhaps disappointed, she was able to make them.

"Well that's wonderful to hear. I just wanted to remind you once again that I'm here for you. If you need a loan, or any help, you can always come to me."

"I know. And as always, that's very kind of you to offer. But so far we're still standing on our own." She would never take a loan from him. She and Arya would happily lose the claim and live on the street before she would let them be in debt to him.

"And still no interest in leaving Winterfell?"

"No."

"I still think it's foolish for you two to continue to live out there all on your own. I keep telling you it'd be much safer for you to just move in here, and I'm more than willing to work with you on the rent. It makes far more sense for you to be here in town if you're serious about opening that shop of yours."

"I know, you've been rather clear with your advice." She saw a look of irritation cross his face. "And generous," she added. "But as we've discussed before, I really think my parents would be proud of us for being able to stay in Winterfell." She knew her parents would never approve of them living in a brothel, even if they were desperate, which currently they were not.

They were standing in front of The Triple P now. She could hear glasses clinking and laughter inside. She could also hear the shriek of a girl and a man loudly grunting. It was bad enough doing their wash, the thought of living there made her stomach churn.

"Of course. I would never want to do anything that Cat would find distasteful. But just know if you need me, I'm here for you, always." He reached out and took her braid in his hand and slid it through his fingers.

"As always, thank you," she said and shifted slightly so her hair fell from his hand. "I should get going. I have other accounts waiting. Perhaps I'll see you Friday for drop off." She started to turn so she could leave.

"Yes, about that." Sansa froze and felt her stomach drop.

"I've had someone else approach me about taking over the laundry duties. Says she'd do it for three quarters of what I'm currently paying you."

"And what you'd tell her?" Sansa asked. She couldn't stop her voice from breaking slightly. She might dislike and distrust Petyr, but if she lost his accounts it would be almost impossible for them to keep the claim, let alone open the shop.

"I told her I'd have to consult my current laundress."

"You want me to lower my fee. Is that what you're asking me?"

"I know it's a big ask, but I do have a business to run. I'd be a fool to not consider the offer just because of our past associations." He gave her a lopsided closed mouth smile and waited.

"I can match it," she offered dully after a moment. She didn't want to, but she knew she had no other options.

"Wonderful," he said with a now fully formed smiled. "I'll let your competition know her services aren't currently needed." The look of satisfaction he wore nearly made her want to slap him. Why must he always be so smug?

"Thank you. You're continued patronage is appreciated," she forced herself to say. "I'll see you Friday then."

His eyes raked over her once more. "As always I look forward to seeing more of you."

xxxxxxx

"You're in a foul mood," Arya observed later that afternoon as Sansa tossed the bags of mending from the back of the cart with far more force than necessary.

"Petyr's cutting what he's paying me," she said as she leapt from the back of the cart.

"What? Why?"

"Says he got another offer. Said the only way he could keep doing business with me was if I agreed to take less."

"And you just agreed?"

"As if I had a choice? It wasn't like it was a negotiation."

"How do you even know he really had another offer?"

"I didn't, but what was I supposed to do?"

"You should've called his bluff."

"You think I should've called the most powerful man in town a liar?"

"Well he is."

"You think I don't know that? But do you really think that would be a smart thing for me to say to his face? Do you ever bother to think about what could happen if I ever made him truly angry?" She was in no mood for Arya's self-righteous indignation today. She loved her sister, but she had a habit of often trying to view their world in black and white. Sansa had to frequently remind her that they lived in a world of grey.

"So he's planning to try and stave us out then? Is that what you're saying?" Arya asked backing off a bit.

"I guess so."

"Maybe the check from the mine will come this month."

"I'm not planning to hold my breath on that," Sansa sighed. "I guess in the meantime I'll try pitching myself to The Crossroads again, maybe I can make up the difference there."

"Good luck, the Heddles not only believe in the curse, they think we're witches to boot," Arya said. "Though what kinda shitty witches would we be to curse ourselves?" she asked with an eyeroll.

"Language Arya," Sansa sighed heavily. "Well the good news is that we have four weeks until we have to pay the bank again. Maybe Olenna will get more boarders and Marge'll decide to order more costumes. If I have to I can go to the miners' dorms as well, see if anyone needs mending or if they have wash overflow. It'll be fine. We'll figure it out."

Arya gave her a nod and attempted a reassuring smile. "You're right. We will, we always do."


	7. Chapter 7

A couple days later Sansa sat on the porch mending a dress when she swore she felt the ground shake and heard what sounded like thunder. Perplexed she scanned the horizon and noted there weren't any clouds. If she didn't know better, she might've guessed it had been some sort of explosion. She stood up and looked towards town, the memory of the dust plume on the horizon the morning Robb had died filling her mind.

She relaxed a bit when she saw nothing but clear sky. She wondered for a moment if someone might be working the abandoned Cerwyn claim next to them. It wasn't unheard of for a perspective buyer to poke about before making a decision. She walked to the end of the porch and looked east, again nothing but clear blue sky. With a shrug she moved back to the middle of the porch and picked up the dress before sitting back down. She placed a few stitches before the sound of barking drew her attention away. She looked up to see Nymeria appearing over the ridge. The dog was running full tilt and barking madly. Sansa stood as Nymeria raced across the yard, charging Sansa and frantically biting at her skirts. Her teeth caught hold and she heard the fabric tear.

"Stop that!" she shouted. Nymeria ran a few paces back into the yard and looked at Sansa. Sansa looked at the tear in her shirt and glowered at the dog. Nymeria looked back and when Sansa didn't move she charged again and captured the skirt once more and gave a forceful pull. "Arya! Arya, your dog is out of control!" she shouted pushing at Nymeria while expecting to see Arya coming over the ridge at any moment.

Nymeria whined and yanked her skirt harder causing another tear. "Nymeria!" she yelled. What the hell was wrong with Arya's dog, and why was her sister not here controlling her? And then Sansa felt her heart stop. "Oh dear god," she breathed aloud in horror. She dropped the dress and ran off the porch in the direction Nymeria had returned from.

Nymeria gave chase and was soon leading her up the trail. "Arya! Arya!" she screamed as she ran.

When she reached the top of the trail she could see the top edge of the bluff had given way. She could see Arya partially buried beneath the rubble, she wasn't moving.

"Arya!" she screamed again and scrambled to her.

She dropped to her knees next to her sister. Arya was unconscious but at least she was still breathing. Sansa assessed her. She was pinned, mainly by her right leg, but by some miracle she hadn't been crushed. Her arms were scrapped and cut, and she was bleeding rather profusely from a small cut on her head, but it didn't look lethal. She tore a length of her skirt and pressed it to the cut. "Arya, Arya can you hear me?" she said in a calm voice as she placed one trembling hands on Arya's shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.

After a moment Arya groaned and slowly opened her eyes. "Sansa?"

"Yeah, I'm right here."

"I think I might've messed up."

"What did you do?"

"I thought I'd try and get started on our mine," she groaned. "I might've miscalculated."

"Clearly. What hurts?"

"My right ankle mostly."

"Hold this," Sansa ordered, placing Arya's hand to the fabric on her head. "Let me see if I can get you free."

Sansa started to try and move some of the rocks but her efforts only seemed to make the pile shift. She heard Arya cried out as a rock slid down and into her side. Sansa stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was crush her sister in a subsequent landslide.

"I have to go get help," Sansa said as she dropped down next to Arya. She was doing her best to stay calm despite the overwhelming sense of panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

"You're not just going to leave me for the coyotes are you?" Sansa wanted to chastise her for saying such a thing, but she knew her sister was likely using humor to cover up how scared she really was.

"Course not. But I can't get you out alone. I'm going to go to town. I'll get Doc T and anyone else that can help me dig you out. Nymeria will keep the coyotes and buzzards away while I'm gone."

"Buzzards? Christ almighty. Why'd you have to bring up buzzards?"

"Because I'm panicking!" Sansa cried and then took a deep breath. "I need to go," she added much more calmly.

"Alright, go. I'll wait here for the buzzards," Arya said, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Arya! I didn't mean -"

"Sansa, I know you didn't, just go."

Sansa took a deep breath and gathered her wits. She decided Arya giving her a hard time had to be a good sign. "I'll be back quick as I can. Please don't move around a lot. I don't want the rocks to slide more."

"Ok."

Their eyes locked for a moment. Sansa squeezed her hand and Arya squeezed back. She stood up and told Nymeria to stay before she ran back to the house. She quickly saddled her horse, Lady, and took off for town. She prayed the entire time for the curse to not take her sister.

xxxxxxxx

Jon stood behind the bar at Oathkeepers pouring drinks for the lunch crowd. Brienne was in the kitchen doing inventory and making a new batch of stew for dinner.

Pod had left a few days ago. Jon had learned what he could, but he still had a ways to go. Luckily Brienne was being patient with him. Thankfully most of the saloon's patrons drank beer and liked their liquor straight.

Sam, Tormund and Theon were at a table near the end of the bar eating lunch. Doc T had finally agreed to take on Sam as an apprentice, but the Doc had gone over Fairbank on a personal matter, so Sam won't be starting his official apprenticeship until next week. In the meantime Tormund was still trying to convince them they needed to stake a claim. He could hear him now attempting to persuade Sam once again.

Jon had already fended Tormund off earlier when he had come in before the others, ordered a Gin Sling and then laughed as Jon struggled to make it. Tormund took that as his opening to advise him he'd be hard pressed to make a lifelong career of being a bartender. Jon had retorted that he was still new and this was temporary.

"Exactly my point. All the more reason for you to be considering your future," Tormund told him.

Thankfully Brienne had chased him off then and told him if Tormund ever tried to order anything with fruit in it again to charge him double. "He doesn't even like that drink," she said taking a sip of it. She made a face and Jon could tell he must've made it wrong. "Still, it's better than what he did to Pod though. If he tries to get you to do shots of Cactus Wine with him, tell him to go fuck himself."

Now he stood paging through the drink guide Pod had left hoping to find out exactly what Cactus Wine was when his attention was pulled to the front of the saloon as the doors flew open. It took him a moment to realize it was Sansa. She looked frantic and wild. Her skirt was ripped near the bottom and her hair a mess. She stopped and blinked rapidly.

"Sansa?" Theon called out.

"I need help! Right now! Please!" she cried.

Brienne burst out of the kitchen then. "Sansa!? What's happened!?"

"It's Arya. The ridge gave way, she's trapped. I can't get her out."

"Oh god! Is she-"

"She was awake and breathing when I left, but she's pinned something fierce. I need to get back to her now."

"What you waiting on!?" Brienne snapped at the men. "Go!"

The men jumped to their feet. "I can get us a cart from the livery. Come on," Theon said.

The men ran down the street to the livery. In the meantime, Sansa mounted Lady who had been right outside the saloon and took off back towards Winterfell. Jon grabbed the nearest saddled horse as Sam, Theon and Tormund started to hitch a wagon.

"I'll meet you there!" he said as he swung up into the saddle. He kicked the horse before any of them could respond and took off down the street in the direction Sansa had gone a moment earlier.

He caught up with her just passed the end of Main Street and they raced back to Winterfell. They hitched the horses quickly and ran up the trail. Sansa was shouting Arya's name, calling out that her she was back and she'd brought help.

When they crested the hill, Jon was a bit taken back by the magnitude of the landslide. Nymeria spotted them, began barking and ran over as if to urge them along. "What happened?" he asked as they drew near the rocks.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I suspect she blew it up," Sansa answered shortly before they reached Arya.

Arya opened her eyes and groaned a bit. "You came back," she breathed.

"Of course I did. You doing ok?"

"The rock in my side shifted, it's getting mighty hard to breath."

"Ok, just hang on. The others will be here in a minute."

Several minutes later Theon, Tormund and Gendry crested the ridge carrying pieces of lumber and crowbars. Sam wasn't too far behind, huffing as he made his way over, doctor's bag en tow.

Sam went to work wrapping her head as the others devised a plan to use the lumber to brace some of the rocks while they removed others. Working together they were able to extricate Arya a short while later.

Gendry carried her back down the hill. Her ankle appeared to be broken and possibly a rib or two, but it was clear she would survive. Sam set to checking her over and setting her ankle.

Once they knew she was going to be ok, Theon, Tormund and a reluctant Gendry agreed to head back to town. They knew Brienne would want to know what had happened, as well as anyone else who had heard the news by now. Sam offered to stay and watch Arya for the night to make sure she was truly alright. Jon volunteered to stay with him. He figured Brienne would understand.

While Sam was inside with Arya, Sansa stood near the barn with Jon as they watched the other men leave in the wagon.

"The whole town's going to be talking about the curse by the end of the day," Sansa sighed softly.

"Fuck 'em. The important thing is she's alright."

"I know. I know that's what really matters. But still." She sounded sad and defeated.

"Are you ok?" he asked turning towards her.

"Of course. After all, I'm not the one that almost blew myself up," she answered. Her voice had a sharp jagged edge to it.

"Sansa," he said turning towards her.

"I don't know what I would've done if she'd… if she'd…." Her voice broke on the last syllable and a couple of tears slid out. Seconds later she started to sob.

Jon took her in his arms and held her as she cried. He wasn't sure how long they stood there, but at one point he had seen Sam come halfway out on to the porch, only to quickly retreat back inside when he saw them in an embrace.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled as she finally pulled away.

"No need to apologize," he said running a thumb over the edge of her jaw were several tears still clung. His hand lingered on her neck and they held each other's' gaze. One of the horses in the barn nickered loudly then, ending the moment. She stepped back to wipe her eyes and then gave him a weak smile.

"Thanks for helping, and for being so kind just now. It's been a minute since I had a good proper cry. I didn't expect it to come out quite like that."

"It's alright."

They stood for a moment observing each other and then Sansa's gaze broke away and she looked at the house. "Anyways, let's go check on my sister. She has a lot of explaining to do."

xxxxxxxx

Jon and Sam had agreed to sleep in the barn, but Jon found he couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning as he thought of the Starks and their predicament. Arya had explained she had trapped some jackrabbits and then traded them to the Tallharts for some dynamite. She explained that she was just trying to help. She thought if she could start the mine, maybe find the vein, then she could make sure they would be able to keep Winterfell without worry. She just hadn't anticipated how powerful the blast would be. Sansa had yelled at her for being stupid and impulsive, but afterwards had hugged her and told her she loved her. Arya had groaned due to her ribs but then had echoed her sister's sentiment.

"Don't ever do anything like that again," Sansa chastised her once more. "You can't leave me out here all alone." Arya had nodded and mumbled another apology.

Something had changed today. Sure he still wanted to help and protect them, but it was no longer just about repaying a self-imposed debt to Robb. Something about each of the girls spoke to him. For Arya it was her bravery and humor. She'd shown both so clearly as they had dug her out. And Sansa, god when she had been in his arms, well he had felt so whole and full of purpose. There was just something about her that seemed to speak to something inside him. Yes he had only known her a short time, but already he felt this undeniable pull to her. And based on the way she had looked at him when he had wiped away her tears, he was filled with hope that she might feel something similar. Could this really be it? Had he actually found the place where he belonged? If this wasn't it, could he accept that? These were the thoughts keeping him from sleep.

He decided it might help him clear his mind if he took a walk. He got up quietly, so as not to disturb Sam who lay snoring heavily near him, and made his way out of the barn. When he entered the yard, he was greeted by a sight he thought for a moment might be a dream. Sansa was sitting on the porch, hair down and loose, legs drawn up under her in a chair. A lantern sat on the table next to her casting a warm circle of golden light. A box sat next to the lantern and she was looking down at something in her hands.

He made his way over to the porch like a moth drawn to a flame. When he stepped on to the boards at the end of the porch they gave a subtle groan. She looked up at him. For a moment she appeared startled, but when she realized it was him, a small sweet smile spread across her lips.

"You can't sleep either?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Not really. What are you doing out here?"

"Looking at old pictures. This one is of my ma. She was really beautiful," she said and held up a picture for Jon to see. He took the picture and studied it.

"You look just like her," he said as he handed it back and took a seat next to her.

"It seems to be both my blessing and my curse," she said staring off into the distance.

"I imagine it's hard to see her every time you see yourself." He didn't really have to imagine, it was how he felt when he saw his mother's eyes looking back at him when he caught the mirror at a certain angle. "How old were you when she passed?"

"Barely fourteen. I was supposed to be watching over her. Pa had taken everyone else to Tombstone to give her a little breathing room and to pick up supplies. She had seen this pretty new bassinet in the Sears and Roebuck, and he was planning to surprise her with it. He thought it would be nice since Rickon was supposed to be their last. But he came early….. I tried to help her, help him, but I didn't know what to do. I was alone with her almost two days. She hadn't let me go for help, said she'd birthed plenty of babies… By the time she realized this wasn't like the rest of us….. well…." She swallowed thickly and looked away.

"I can't even imagine how terrible that must've been for you."

"You don't know the half of it. There was so much blood. Sometimes I think I don't even want to have children, not after what I saw that day."

"I'm sorry."

She wiped a single tear away and gave him a forced smile. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be sitting out here wallowing and bringing you down. You must think all I do is cry."

"I don't think that. And you're not bringing me down. They say it can help when you share your pain with someone." She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Well then what about you?" she asked once she seemed steady. "You have any pain you want to share with me?"

He felt his face close down a bit at her question. "I think there's a rule somewhere that only one person a night can be sad."

"Hmm," she said looking at him. He could only meet her gaze for a moment before he looked away. "Alright," she went on. "But when you're ever ready to share, you'll come talk to me yes?"

"You have my word, if I need to talk, you'll be one of the first people I come to."

"One of?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, there is Sam to consider," he said in a gentle joking tone. The flush left her cheeks and she finally smiled.

They sat quietly after that, looking out across the desert. Somewhere an owl hooted and a coyote howled. And he found himself cautiously reaching for her hand. Neither of them made eye contact or even turned their heads as he did it, but he felt her fingers squeeze his as they watched the moon rise higher into the sky.

He wasn't sure how long they sat there like that, but eventually Sansa yawned and he suggested they turn in. She agreed and released his hand. They wished each other a quick goodnight. And the she went back inside, and him to the barn, without any acknowledgment of what had just happened between them.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Sansa woke early. She had plenty of laundry and mending to get done after losing the prior day. She grabbed two sacks and headed out the door. Sam was coming across the yard and raised his hand in greeting.

"Morning Sansa. How's Arya?" he asked as he stepped on to the porch.

She set down the bags as she answered him. "Still sleeping. I left some breakfast on the side board for everyone."

"Thank you, I'll let Jon know when he wakes."

"Good. Also, I want to thank you again for staying last night to make sure she's truly alright."

"Of course. I'm glad I was able to help. I'm rather useless in quite a few situations, but every once and a while I get that rare chance to redeem myself." He gave her a self-deprecating smile. She shook her head as she smiled back.

"Well I'm glad Arya's little stunt at least had a silver lining then. I'm headed down to the creek. You'll probably be gone before I return, but know that I am truly grateful. Please tell Jon I thank him as well."

He opened his mouth and looked as if he planned to say something else but then he hesitated. "I will. And you're welcomed," he said a moment later.

She picked the bags up and headed towards the creek. Her mind wondered back to last night and the way Jon had held her hand as they looked up at the stars. In the moment she had thought the stars might've been shooting out her fingers given the way she had felt when he'd touched her. She had fallen asleep last night thinking about the fact that no one had ever made her feel like that. She knew then that she was very likely falling for him.

That had been quite the sweet thought to fall asleep to, but now in the bright light of morning she felt nervous and worried. She might be falling, but what if he'd just taken her hand to pay her a kindness? She had sobbed in his arms for quite some time yesterday and then she had gone and brought up her dead mother. Jon seemed decent and kind, of course he would want to assure her she wasn't alone.

And if it was something else? What if he was developing the same feelings for her? Well, she knew full well she shouldn't encourage that either.

She thought back to the only other boy she'd had really had an interest in, Harry Hardyng. He had worked in the mine with Robb and Theon. Robb had brought him home for dinner a few times and she had become smitten. Of course, he hadn't seemed interested in her. Still, she found him handsome and couldn't stop herself from pining for him. After a couple of rather sad attempts to gain his favor she had decided to go to Marge for advice. Foolishly she had started that conversation when they had been walking to Olenna's after church one Sunday.

"Ask him to teach you something," Marge suggested as the walked arm in arm down the sidewalk.

"Don't you think he'd see right through that? What could he possibly teach me that Robb and Theon won't be able to?"

Marge had raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Margaery! You can't actually expect me to walk up to him and say, 'Please Mr. Hardyng, would you teach me how to kiss?"

"Oh my sweet friend, who said anything about kissing? You seriously lack imagination."

"Imagination? I'm hardly some bawdy tart." Marge stuck her tongue out in response. "And Harry barely acknowledges my existence, even asking for a kiss would be a stretch."

"Harry Hardyng is an idiot then. Or maybe all that time down in the mine has ruined his eye sight."

"Don't call him an idiot! Harry's perfect." She had felt her neck prickle then and for a moment she thought she would turn to see Harry standing behind them. Instead she turned to see Baelish standing in the shadow of the doorway they had just passed.

"Bright out today isn't it?" Petyr's asked as he stepped on to the sidewalk.

She nodded as she felt her cheeks flame, wondering how much of their conversation he had just heard.

"How was the service?"

"Find out for yourself….. won't burst into flames," Marge had mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Hmm?" Marge had asked, feigning ignorance.

"It was pleasant as always," Sansa answered.

"Sansa, I was hoping to have a word if possible."

"I don't –"

"Actually Mr. Baelish, we're due for lunch at my grandmother's. And you know how she hates to be kept waiting. So if you'd excuse us," Marge responded.

"It'll only be a moment."

Sansa and Marge exchanged a look, but before she could answer Robb, Arya, Loras, Theon and Harry had come along. Robb had glanced at Petyr with annoyance.

"I thought you were going on ahead to help Olenna," Robb said looking at Sansa.

"We were," Marge answered for them both. "Just got hung up for a moment. Petyr says he has some business to discuss with your sister."

"It's Sunday, it's not a day for business," Robb said gruffly, his eyes trained on Petyr.

"Of course. Tomorrow then dear?" Sansa had just nodded and off they had gone.

"I'm told Mrs. Tyrell makes the best baked beans in the whole territory," Harry said to her when they had gone a few steps. Sansa had nodded and then glanced behind her. The way Petyr's glowered at Harry had not been lost on her. Neither was the fact Harry had died several weeks later in the same explosion that killed Robb.

When she reached the bank of the creek she pushed thoughts of Harry and Jon aside. She needed to focus on now. Sansa Stark had a claim and a sister to take care, she didn't have time for all this balderdash. She went right to work on the laundry, softly singing the song her mother always sang when she cleaned. She had just finished the first bag when she heard a noise behind her. She grabbed for the small pistol she always brought with her when she came to the creek alone, and whirled around. She let out a bark of a laugh when she found Jon standing there with his hands up.

"Next time call out if you're coming up behind me like that," she said as she lowered the pistol.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He didn't want to tell her he'd kept quiet because he had wanted to hear the end of the song she'd been singing. Not only was her voice beautiful, but she'd been singing a song his mother had often sang to him when he was little.

"You're just lucky I'm a slow draw."

"Do you want me to teach you how to be quicker?" A looked passed between them, as if they both understood the other was not ready to discuss what had happened between them last night.

"Perhaps another time," she answered. "Was there something you needed before you left?"

"I just thought you might need some help. Arya said she helps you with the wash sometimes. And since she's laid up….." He shifted on his feet a bit, if Sansa didn't know better she'd have thought him nervous. "Can I help you finish up?"

"Sure," she said after a moment.

He came alongside her and picked up a set of sheets. He moved to the edge of the creek and began to wash them. Within a couple minutes he was humming softly to himself. She found she liked the deep timbre of his voice. When he finished the set, he turned to her.

"Also, I wanted to talk to you before we left." She felt herself tense, she wasn't sure if it was from fear or delight.

"What –" She cleared her throat. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't want you to think I have dishonorable intentions, so I wanted to be upfront about something." Sansa felt her heart start to beat faster. This was it, he was about to break her heart, remind her they were just friends. And even though she knew logically it was the safest thing for the both of them, it still hurt. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and released it as she waited for him to go on.

"I knew your brother, I knew Robb."

It took her brain a full minute to process his words. And when she finally did, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water on her. She took a step back from him.

"Who are you exactly? You from the mine? Is that how you knew Theon?" She felt foolish, all that kindness had been a ploy. He was probably here because of the insurance pay out, they were probably searching for a way not to pay it.

"No, no I'm not from the mine. I knew Robb in the army. We were stationed together for a time." She wasn't sure if she believed him, but then why would he lie about such a thing? She took another step back out of instinct.

"I don't think I recall him ever talking about a Jon or a Sam. How well could you have known him?"

"Sam came after he left. After he came home 'cause of your pa."

"So what? So you knew him. Doesn't explain why you're here now."

"I owed him a debt." He could see the way she was studying him. He had known she'd be guarded. He held her gaze and hoped she'd see the sincerity in it.

"What kinda debt exactly?" she asked cautiously.

"A rather personal one. Did he ever talk much about his time there?"

She continued to stare at him. Robb hadn't much cared for talking about his time in the army. He had told her more than once that he was ashamed of some of the things he had been ordered to do. She knew he occasionally had nightmares about some of those things. He had told her once how on more than one occasion that had been ordered to kill vast herds of buffalo only to leave the carcasses to rot. He hated the waste of it all, how he knew it would make their father cringe. When she had asked him why they'd done such a thing he had explained it was meant to starve the Indians out. And while he had freely spoken about what they'd done to the buffalo, what they had done to the Indians was a different matter.

The only time he had ever spoken about that aspect happened one night when he and Theon had gotten rather drunk. Theon had asked him to tell him about the worse fight he'd ever been in and then had goaded him into answering it. After a bit of back and forth, Robb had proceeded to tell them a story about the time he had been in a scouting party that had been in pursuit of a group of Comanche. The band had killed and scalped an entire family, including three children, before setting fire to their homestead. It wasn't the first time and the army wanted them found badly. They had been in pursuit for over a week. And then one night their lookout had fallen asleep. The Comanche had been closer than they thought and they were able to infiltrate their camp. He had awoken to the sound of gunfire and a brave's body falling across him. The brave had been shot in the forehead, right between the eyes. A brutal fight ensued. There had been a lot of gunfire and even more hand to hand combat with knives and bayonets. By the end of it only he and the company's sharpshooter had survived.

"He barely talked about it," she conceded. "I don't think he liked remembering the people that had died and the people he had killed. How did you come to be in his debt exactly?"

"He saved my life. We were ambushed in the middle of the night on a scout mission. He killed a brave that was trying to cut my face off." Jon's hand drifted to the scars over his eye.

Sansa gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. Jon looked at her unsure of what was happening.

"You were the sharpshooter. That happened shortly before he left to come home."

"How – how'd you know that?"

"He mentioned you once, not by name, but he told me this story about fighting some braves in hand to hand combat. He said he thought one of them had nearly blinded the unit's sharpshooter before he's pulled him off the man. He said he had to leave to come home before he knew if you were actually blinded though. I think it bothered him that he didn't know what had happened to you."

"Well you can probably tell from that shot on Sunday I made a full recovery." She smiled slightly at that.

"I still don't understand why you're here though."

"I was getting discharged around the time I heard he died. I saw no point going back east. It's not like there was anyone there waiting for me, and well, I still recalled all the stories he use to tell about y'all. I knew if he was dead then you and Arya were out here all alone. And well that didn't seem right. I thought it'd be the least I could do to come and check on you."

Sansa felt herself softening towards him. Perhaps it was a bit strange, but it was also rather sweet and chivalrous. And he seemed so genuine about it.

"Robb did have something about him that made people feel very attached to him."

"That he did. He was a good soldier. Whenever morale got low he'd try to lift everyone's spirits. He especially liked to tell stories about your family. That's how I know he cared so deeply about you and Arya."

"That's nice to hear. Though I do hope he didn't share the more embarrassing ones, at least of me."

"I assure you he made every effort to protect your honor." Sansa felt a smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her brother sitting around a campfire and telling stories from their youth.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It seemed strange to bring it up the first time we met. I didn't want to scare you off before I had a chance to get to know you, and you to know me. And then things just kept happening to delay it."

"Well it's certainly unexpected," she confirmed with a soft laugh. "But if your intentions are as pure as you are saying, well then I suppose all's well that ends well."

"I appreciate you saying that." For a moment they continued to look at each other.

"Alright then, well let's get this wash done so you can get you back to where you belong." Sansa realized as she said the words, part of her felt he belonged here with her. She had no ideas where that feeling had come from so suddenly, and she stopped herself from saying it aloud. She quickly reminded herself it would be embarrassing to be too presumptuous, she chose to ignore the voice that was trying to remind her this could also be dangerous for him.

xxxxxxx

"So you should probably try to take it easy the next few days. You can start using crutches once you feel like it doesn't hurt your ribs, but till then I would try to stay in bed and get as much rest as possible. Drink plenty of bone broth too," Sam told Arya as Sansa and Jon entered the house.

"Hear that Sansa? I confined to my bed. No play for me," Arya said tossing her sister an impish smile.

"Play?" Sam echoed. Sansa rolled her eyes. Arya would be the one to half blow herself up to get out of going to the play with her.

"Yeah, Olenna had given me two tickets for the show this weekend. There is a traveling troupe putting on "Trial by Jury." Friday is opening night. We had tickets to the Saturday matinee," Sansa explained.

"Well that's unfortunate," Sam said.

"It is. And you can clearly see how broken up Arya is about it."

"Who in their right mind wants to spend a perfectly good afternoon in a dimly lit theater with all those pretentious folks?" Arya said with a shrug. "No offense Sansa."

"Maybe Jon could take you?" Sam suggested.

Sansa turned to look at him and she saw Jon turning red. "I – um," he sputtered.

"It's alright, you don't have to," she said quietly.

"No – I – it's just that, well I did run out on Brienne yesterday," he said as his hand worried at the back of his neck. "I'd want to check with her before I agree is all."

"Alright. But truly if you don't want to you don't have to. And anyways, I probably shouldn't be leaving Arya alone for that long."

"Hey, I'm not an invalid," Arya interjected.

"I can come back and keep her company if you prefer," Sam offered.

"I won't want to trouble you," Sansa said.

"It'd be no trouble. She's my first real patient, so I think I have a duty to check up on her."

"You know I'm right here," Arya protested. "Don't I even get a say?"

"No," Sansa and Sam answered at the same time. Everyone but Arya laughed.

"Alright, well I'll be in town Friday to drop the laundry. You'll let me know then if Brienne is ok with it?" Sansa asked looking at Jon.

"I will."

"Alright then," Sansa said as she did her best to suppress a smile, again ignoring the voice trying to warn her of the danger.

xxxxxxx

On Friday she headed into town to drop off the clean laundry. She pulled the cart into the alley behind The Triple P. She had expected to be greeted by Roz or one of the other girls, however today it was a serious looking Petyr who greeted her.

"Sansa," he said holding out his hand to her. Something in his voice told her he was unhappy.

"Petyr," she said as he helped her from the wagon.

A couple of the brothel girls appeared, quickly grabbing the sacks of clean and mended laundry before disappearing inside, leaving just the two of them in the alley. He pinned her with his gaze and waited for her to speak.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, doing her best to keep the resignation from her voice.

"I need to talk to you. There have been some nasty rumors spreading around town the last couple of days."

"Rumors? Because of… Arya's injury?" She had stopped herself from saying "the curse" because she knew it would only angered him more.

"I'm hearing stories that you had those junipers staying out with you for a couple days."

"Jon and Sam?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, that'd be them," he said. "Unless there are other men you were also recently entertaining?" The question dripped of toxic accusation.

Sansa took a deep breath. She already had enough to worry about without him trying to make her feel guilty about them helping her. "So what if they were out there? I don't see how that's anyone's concern."

"So it's true then?"

"What if it is?" she asked feeling defensive.

"Is this because I cut your pay? If times are that desperate my dear girl, then perhaps you should rethink your refusal to accept my offer of assistance."

Sansa felt her jaw tighten. She knew he was trying to upset her, there was no other reason to accuse her of such a thing. "We're not desperate. And there was nothing scandalous going on either. They were there to help us. I'm sure you've also heard by now that Arya was injured. Sam was tending to her leg and her head."

"And the other one? What kinda help was the bar dog from Oathkeepers offering?"

"He was just there to be supportive. Him and Sam go most everywhere together."

"You should think about your reputation. The unmarried daughters of the former sheriff allowing two strange unmarried men to stay with them for several nights. It's a bit obscene."

"Obscene?!" Sansa cried. She was nearly choking on rage now. How dare he say that to her, especially given what he did in this town. And then there was the offer he had made her right after Robb had died. An offer that had been more than obscene. She could still picture his face after she had slapped him. He had tried to back pedal and swore he only meant she could be a waitress at The Mockingbird, but they both knew that was not the offer he had been attempting to make.

"First off it was one night, not several. And I can assure you we didn't do anything even remotely "obscene." And let them talk if that is what they want to do. Half this town visits your whores and half this town believes we are cursed or worse. I'm not sure I right care about anyone's opinions here anymore." She was breathing loudly and angrily when she finished.

"There's no curse!" he snapped. She flinched and took a stuttered breath. He seemed to take note. "You know for someone who says they don't care, you sure seem upset," he said putting the focus back on her.

She was upset because she was scared, not that she would tell him that. She didn't really care what people said about her anymore, but she did care if it meant business might dry up. Against her best efforts, she couldn't stop a couple of tears from slipping out.

"Now, now my dear," he said as he pulled her into an embraced, his demeanor suddenly soft. She resisted the urge to shove him away. "There's no need to cry. Rest assured I'll do my best to protect your reputation. I just thought it was best you heard it from a friend was all."

"Of course," she murmured. She broke the embrace as soon as she felt his hand starting to skim lower on her back.

"I need to be going. I still have another stop to make."

"Of course. It's more important now than ever that you keep your customers happy," he said with a gleam in his eye.

Roz appeared then and handed her a bag of coins. She took it and quickly said goodbye. She started the cart and left the alley. She didn't need to turn around to know Petyr was still standing there, watching her go.

She eased the cart on to Main Street and headed towards the boarding house. She wanted to see Jon. She knew it was foolish to allow herself to be getting so attached to him already, but she had felt so comforted by him earlier this week. She hoped seeing him now would have the same effect.

She stopped in front of Olenna's and tied up the mule. It was close to lunch time, so she went around the side of the building to see if he was out back. She found him sitting at the long table with Edd. When Edd saw her, he dismissed himself.

"Miss Sansa," Edd said as he left the yard.

Jon initially smiled at her, but after a moment of studying her, his smile fell away. "You seem upset. Is Arya ok?" he asked looking alarmed.

"She's fine. Going a little stir crazy, but fine."

"But you're still upset."

"Why do you think that?" she asked taking a seat across from him.

"Am I wrong?"

She looked at him, deciding if she was really going to share this with him. If she let him in there might be no taking it back. She shouldn't, she shouldn't let him in.

"It's nothing really," she said looking away towards the clouds on the horizon.

"If it's nothing then why does it look like you might cry?"

How was it he knew her so well already? She met his eyes, there was so much concern there. It had been so long since she had felt like anyone, outside of Arya, had cared about her that much. She felt her resolve crumble.

"It's just idle gossip. I should've anticipated it really."

"Gossip about what?" he asked.

"Me and Arya, well me mostly. People are apparently talking because you and Sam stayed overnight with us."

"Well that's a bunch of horse shit. We slept in the barn, and Sam was tending to Arya." He was regarding her carefully. She doubted she was doing well at hiding the conflict that currently was playing out within her. "Do you think it was wrong?" he asked after a moment.

"Course not," she answered and held his gaze. He reached across the table and carefully took her hand. She gave it a small squeeze. "We didn't do anything wrong or improper," she continued. "Let them talk. It's not like people whispering about of us is anything new."

Jon couldn't stop the rueful smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He was rather impressed with how strong she was, but it bothered him a little that she was forced to be.

"So are we just adding fuel to the fire by going to the play together tomorrow?" he asked after a moment.

"Brienne's letting you go?" she asked as a bright smile spread across her face.

"Yeah, she said as long as I'm to the saloon no later than five, she can manage without me for the afternoon."

"That's wonderful news! Please make sure you thank her for me."

"I will," he agreed and then smiled cautiously. "Does this make your day a little better?"

She matched his smile. "It does, thank you."

She knew she shouldn't entertain this, but she was so tired of making decisions with Petyr in mind. Didn't she deserve some happiness? Perhaps it could be different with Jon. He was strong and sure of himself. He had survived a brutal Indian attack and was a crack shot. Maybe he could be the one person that Petyr would concede to.

'Selfish fool,' a voice hissed as Jon continued to smile at her. She closed her eyes for a split second and willed the voice to be quiet. She knew there was a good chance it was right, but she just couldn't bear to listen to it with the way Jon was looking at her right now.


	9. Chapter 9

"Town two days in a row? Must be a rather special play to make that happen," Theon said with a smile as he took Lady's reigns from her hand. Sansa felt a slight heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn't sure what Theon knew or meant with that comment, but she was already nervous about meeting Jon for whatever this was. Which was the exact reason she had snapped at Arya earlier when she had asked exactly how many times was she planning to braid and unbraid her hair today.

"How'd you know I was going to the play?" she asked trying not to sound defensive. Had word already spread she was going with Jon? How was that even possible?

"Lots of people been in today for just that reason," Theon answered gesturing to the nearly full stable.

"Oh, right," she said softly. Theon gave her a slightly questioning look, so she forced a smile and told him she'd be back by five and then left the stable.

Sansa made her way towards the boarding house, making sure to stick to the far side of the street from all of Petyr's businesses. As she readied to cross the street to Olenna's she saw Jon standing outside waiting for her. She took a quick moment to admire him. His unruly curls were slicked back and caught at the back of his head. He was wearing a dark suit that included a vest. She could only imagine how overheated he must already be. He saw her then and gave her a wide smile. He quickly crossed the street to meet her.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said smiling. She could see the sweat clinging to his brow.

"What?" he asked after taking in her expression.

"I imagine you're dying a bit in that suit," she answered.

"A little, but I thought this is what one wore to the theater." Sansa laughed and Jon looked a bit embarrassed.

"You look wonderful," she said quickly. He smiled slightly, and thankfully the embarrassment seemed to recede a bit. "But it's a bit formal for a matinee. Plus it's so hot out, you'll be forgiven for leaving the coat and vest behind."

"Thank god," he said. "I'll be right back then." He crossed back to Olenna's. He disappeared inside and emerged a couple minutes later sans jacket and vest.

"Better?" she asked when he stood before her again.

"Much. Shall we go?" he asked.

She nodded and they set off down the street in the direction of Hobb's Café. They had decided yesterday they would get lunch before the show began at two.

"How's Arya?" he asked as they walked.

"Happy to have visitors. In fact, she told me to tell you she'd appreciate if you'd come by and visit next week."

"I can do that. I'll figure out what day Brienne doesn't need me till the late afternoon and come that morning."

"She'll be thrilled. Though perhaps not as thrilled as she was to be surprised by Gendry this morning." She smirked a bit at the memory of Arya asking her to delay him for a moment as she had reached for the brush and wash basin after Sansa had told her Gendry in the yard with Sam. "Did you know he planned to come out with Sam?"

"No. But then Sam was rather nervous at the idea of riding through the open desert alone. Won't surprise me that he sought out someone to go with him."

She asked him then if Sam had minded having to go out to Winterfell for the afternoon. He assured her he hadn't.

"Actually it saved him from having to spend the day dodging Tormund's attempts to help him get is "wick wet," as Tormund calls it. I think he just likes to see how many different shades of red Sam can turn before he finally passes out," Jon laughed.

"He's such a shit stirrer," Sansa laughed, then blushed a bit and covered her mouth with her hand.

"It's rather amusing when you curse," Jon teased her. She smiled shyly in response.

They entered Hobb's and choose a table near the rear of the cafe. Sansa thought less people might notice them together back there. The waiter came over and they placed their order for a simple lunch of sandwiches.

"So have you ever been to a play before?" Sansa asked.

"No." He hoped she won't ask him why not. He didn't particularly want to bring the mood down by tell her that orphanages didn't spring for such luxuries.

"Well then you're in for a treat. My mother loved the theater. She said it was one of the things she missed the most about living back east. When I was seven she took me to my first show. It was one of the first times I actually had her all to myself. I loved it, the time with her and the play. After that, we go whenever a traveling troupe came to town. A couple of times we even travelled to see one. The theater became our special place."

"Your father didn't go with you?"

"No, he wasn't a big fan. I think he thought his time might be spent better elsewhere. Don't get me wrong, he did love her enough to attend with her occasionally, but once I was old enough to be considered a suitable companion, well he was rather thrilled to bow out."

"So just the two of you?" She nodded, deciding to leave out that Petyr had joined them on more than several occasions over the years. "It's nice you had something like that to share with your mother. I'm sure it gave you both a lot of sweet memories."

"It did." She smiled softly for a long moment before coming back to the present. She wanted to know more about him. Most of their prior interactions had involved other people. And their only true one on one conversation had almost entirely centered on Robb. "What about you? Was there anything special you liked to do with your parents?" she asked. She realized her blunder as soon as she had finished the question. She stared down at her half-eaten sandwich and felt her stomach lurch. How could she had forgotten about what he'd said about growing up in an orphanage? "I'm sorry, I forgot," she said quietly.

"Hey," Jon said softly. "Sansa." She slowly gazed up and met his eyes. His expression was soft. "It's alright."

"I didn't mean to –"

"I know." He let a smile tug at the corner of his mouth to let her know it truly was alright. She returned the smile but he could still see the worry in the rest of her face. He decided the only thing that might help was if he actually shared something with her. "I didn't actually go to the orphanage until I was ten. My father," he began. It felt odd to call him that to someone else, Jon thought. The man had never publicly acknowledged him after all. "He liked to take me shooting and hunting. I tended to like that. He tried to teach me to play the harp as well, but I didn't really like it and was pretty terrible at it, so he gave up after just a few lessons." Sansa laughed a little. "Just as well, his wife didn't really like me spending a lot of time in the main house any ways." Sansa stopped laughing and looked at him. Jon realized he had just rambled off that last bit without thinking. He felt his throat tighten. So much for lightening the mood.

"So you grew up only with your father?"

"No." He took a long drink of water and then a long breath. "My parents weren't married. My father had an affair with my mother. She worked in their household. I grew up there, well until she and my father passed away unexpectedly." He was surprised he was being so candid. Outside of Sam, no one else really knew his tale of woe. It had always been easier to be an orphan than a bastard.

"I'm sorry." This time it was Sansa who reached across the table and took his hand. He looked up at her a bit in surprise. He had worried that she might think differently of him now.

"You're only the second person I have ever called him my father to."

"I'd love to hear more about him, and your mother, if you ever wish to discuss them further." He nodded and she released his hand so they could finish eating. Jon looked around as he took a drink of water and wondered if anyone else had noticed him getting slightly emotional. To his relief he found that all of the other patrons were too engrossed in their own meals and company to pay their table any mind.

"Perhaps a lighter topic?" he asked turning his attention back to her.

"Of course. Would you like to hear about the time my mother took me to Tucson for a play and we got caught in monsoon?" Jon nodded gratefully and Sansa launched into her story.

They finished lunch a short time later and when the check came Jon insisted on paying despite Sansa's protest that it should be her treat since he was doing her a favor by going to the show with her. He told her that didn't matter and his mother would be appalled if he let a lady buy his meal.

Soon after that they made their way to the theater. The matinee was about three quarters full. The performance had more singing than he had anticipated, but at least it was a comedy and didn't seem to take itself too seriously. More than anything he liked the way Sansa laughed and smiled throughout the production. He also liked the way she kept glancing at him to ensure he was enjoying himself. He made sure to smile whenever he caught her eye.

When the play finished they made their way outside. It was even hotter than when they had gone in. He was extremely thankful now that she had gotten him to ditch the suit coat and vest. They walked in the direction of Olenna's, doing their best to stay in the shade of the sidewalks. They had been so busy discussing the play that they both failed to realize they were passing directly in front of The Mockingbird. They stopped when they heard Sansa's name being called.

"I almost thought you were trying to ignore me," Petyr said as they turned.

"Not at all. Just lost in our own conversation it would seem," Sansa answered. There was something in her voice that gave Jon pause, a false sweetness perhaps.

Petyr looked Jon over much as he had the first time they had met. "I can see that now. I must say I am rather surprised to see you out and about after what happened with Arya just a few days ago." Jon felt Sansa stiffen beside him. He knew Petyr's admonishment wounded her a bit. He could tell Petyr was enjoying her discomfort. "Anyways," he went on, "What topic has captured your mind so just now?" Even though he kept a small smile on his lips, there was a sharp edge in his question.

"We just came from the matinee," Sansa answered.

"Ah. Wonderful performance won't you agree?"

"You were there?" Jon asked. He hadn't recalled seeing him there, but then he'd only really been paying attention to Sansa.

"No, I went opening night. There's nothing quite like opening night at the theater after all. If I had known you were able to take time away from Arya I would've insisted on you accompanying me. It would've been just like all those times I'd taken you and your mother." Jon saw Sansa's jaw given the slightest tick at his words.

"Yes, I recall all those performances fondly. But I haven't been to a play since she passed, you know that."

"I do. You've been very clear that the theater reminds you too much of her. I guess you've finally gotten over it." Jon saw Petyr's jaw tick and his nostrils flare ever so slightly as he spoke to Sansa. She looked down at the ground.

"So now where y'all off to?" Petyr asked after it became clear Sansa did not plan to respond to his statement.

"Just back to the boarding house. I wanted to thank Olenna for the tickets before I head home to Arya."

"Ah, pity," he said smoothly. "And here I was going to invite you both in for a drink. I would've loved to join in on your discussion of the play."

"Another time perhaps," Jon answered. He wanted to get Sansa away from him. Petyr shot him a look that told him he didn't much care what Jon's thoughts were on anything and the invitation had not truly been for him.

"Of course," Petyr said tightly.

"We should be going. I've left Arya alone for far too long," Sansa said following Jon's lead. "Have a good day Petyr."

"Given her my regards. I hope the ankle heals quickly. "Sansa nodded and then she and Jon started to walk away. Jon could feel Petyr's eyes burning into his back, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of turning back around.

They walked in silence until they were almost to boarding house.

"Is he always so protective of you?" Jon asked. He had chosen his words carefully. He was still slightly baffled by the relationship that seemed to exist between Sansa and Petyr.

"Protective?" Sansa scoffed under her breath. "Possessive would probably be a better word."

"Perhaps you just tell him to stand down? I mean seems to me you are very capable of taking care of yourself. And it doesn't appear that you care for him trying to be your father." Sansa made a noise that seemed to be somewhere between a snort and annoyed laugh.

"He's not trying to be my father. No one could ever try and replace my father."

"I didn't mean –"

"And anyways, it's not that simple. He's my largest customer, so being flat out rude to Petyr Bealish and making him angry won't exactly help me. Making Petyr angry isn't good for anyone. You'd do well to remember that."

Jon stopped, which caused Sansa to stop and turn towards him. "I wasn't rude back there. Did you think I was rude?"

Her expression softened as she looked at him. "No you weren't," she assured him. Jon nodded in agreement. "But you wanted to be," she added knowingly, her eyes daring him to disagree.

"Oh, so you think you can read my mind now, is that it?" Jon said, a slight tease in his voice that he hoped would break some of this tension. She bit her bottom lip to try and hide the smile that was threatening and shook her head. Jon sure hoped she was telling the truth, because if she could read his thoughts right now, she might be rather frightened of the things he wanted to do to Petyr.

They held each other's gaze for another moment and then started down the street again. He decided it would serve him better to focus on her rather than Petyr.

"I hope you had a good time today," he said as they came to a stop in front of the boarding house.

"I did. Thank you so much for going with me. I know Sam put you in a rather awkward situation."

"And I plan to thank him for it." She looked slightly confused. "I just…. I can be a bit shy when it comes to pretty girls is all."

"You think I'm pretty?" Sansa asked with a suppressed smile and a beautiful blush sweeping across her cheeks.

"I – um. I…" Jon stumbled, his hand going to the back of his neck. Sansa's smile was no longer suppressed, she was practically beaming at him. And even though he felt sheepish now, it made him smile back. They stood for a long moment with the late afternoon sun beat down on them. The realization that he wanted to kiss her hit him hard, but he knew it wouldn't be proper. Not out here on the street in broad daylight. And then there was the fact that he wasn't even properly courting her. He hadn't even set this whole thing up.

He pulled himself back into the moment and saw that her smile had receded and she seemed to be watching something over his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked as he just tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He let his hand and gaze linger as he waited on her answer.

"It's nothing," she answered, turning her gaze to him. He dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder. A man stood across the street smoking a cigarette and watching them with some interest.

"Do you know him?" Jon asked as he turned back to her.

"Not all that well. He works for Petyr though."

Jon started to turn. He had every intention of marching across the street and demanding to know what exactly this man thought he was doing by watching them. Sansa caught his arm before he'd even turned a quarter of the way around. He stopped and looked down to where her hand rested on his forearm. He glanced back up at her face and she gave him a look that told him, no demanded, that he leave it be.

"Thank you again for escorting me today. I hope you had as pleasant of a time as I did." She still held his arm and he felt himself relaxing almost involuntarily as she moved her fingertips in small circles. He let out a deep breath and decided it wasn't worth ruining the afternoon for her by confronting Baelish's man.

"Perhaps we could do it again sometime," he said thickly, forcing himself to swallow his anger.

She smiled at that and squeezed his arm. "I think I'd like that."


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later Jon and Sam rode out to Winterfell to see Arya. Sansa wasn't there. Arya informed them that she had gone into town to take dress measurements of several of the girls at The Glass Garden. Jon felt a stab of disappointment, he hadn't seen her since Saturday, but Arya's excitement at seeing him quickly overshadowed it.

"I'm so glad you came. It's nice to have someone different to talk to."

"Sansa mentioned you were getting a bit of cabin fever," Jon said while Sam examined her ankle.

"You have no idea. I'm not use to having to stay in one place for this long. Sansa tried to entertain me, but she's my sister and it's not like she has any stories or jokes I haven't heard a hundred times before." Jon laughed softly. "And then there's the fussing and the lectures. I think she's taking advantage of the fact I can't escape her." Jon laughed again.

"Well you did do a rather foolish thing. I can't say I blame her for wanting to make sure you never do something like that again," Jon told her. Arya rolled her eyes a little in response.

"I know, I know. She says the same thing, repeatedly. So how 'm I looking Doc?" she asked as Sam finished his examination of her.

"Ankle looks good. And your ribs seem to be feeling better, you could probably give the crutches a try if you're feeling ready."

"Finally! Thanks doc! So how's town? Petyr giving you any problems?" she asked turning back to Jon.

Jon and Sam exchanged a look. Jon had told Sam of the encounter with Baelish on Saturday and how one of his men had been watching him. Sam had managed to talk him out of confronting Baelish. He hadn't seen the man or Baelish since that afternoon.

"So something happened?" Arya prompted looking between the two of them. It was easy to see nothing annoyed her more than being treated like a child.

"No, we haven't crossed paths since I saw him Saturday. Why do you ask?"

Arya's eyes darted away and she worried at her lip for a moment. "Never mind, forget I asked," she finally answered. "So, anyone interesting been in Oathkeepers lately? How's Brienne?"

"No, no changing the subject. Out with it. What did Sansa say about me and Petyr?"

Arya scowled at him a bit. "She's gonna be angry with me for bringing it up….. Do you really want my main caregiver angry with me? Look how defenseless I am." She gestured to her ankle.

Jon said nothing and waited. "If Jon's in danger," Sam began.

"I don't think it's quite that dramatic," Arya interrupted him. Both the men stood looking at her now. "Fine," she huffed. "He's been bothering Sansa about you. Asking her all sorts of questions. Told her she shouldn't be around you so much, says she doesn't really know you; that you might be trying to prey on her naiveté. That you might have designs on taking Winterfell from her."

Jon felt what he could only describe as rage, fill his body. "That so? When did he do that?"

"Monday when she picked up the laundry. He wasn't too happy about seeing her with you on Saturday."

"That fucking flannel mouthed, good for nothing, jackass! How could he say something like to her? He doesn't even know me!"

"It's what he does," Arya said with a shrug. "He thrives on discord." Jon stood there, his hand clenching and unclenching from a fist. He'd like nothing more than to punch Petyr in his smug face.

"Maybe you should calm down," Sam began when he caught Jon's eye. Sam knew that look, Jon was looking for a fight. "You know you were right when you said he doesn't know you. Perhaps he thinks he's just trying to help. I imagine he's sees himself as their guardian in some respects. Right Arya?"

Arya gave a single syllable humorless laugh and raised an eyebrow. "How much has Sansa told you about her and Petyr exactly?"

"Her and Petyr?" Jon didn't like the sound of that. "She hasn't said all that much about him actually. Well other than to not make him angry, but I've heard a couple of things from a couple other people," he answered bitterly.

"We heard about the curse, and the rumor that he fancied your ma," Sam added.

"So you've heard the town's version of what they think they know."

"You make it sound as if there's far more to the story," Jon said.

"Isn't that always the case?" Arya asked.

"So what is the real story?" Sam asked.

Arya hesitated. It was clear she was weighing out if this was something she should be discussing. She looked at Jon for nearly a full minute and then let out a deep breath. "I'm not sure…. Sansa probably doesn't want me sharing all this, I mean there's a reason she hasn't."

"If Jon's in danger I think you should tell us," Sam said.

"Are you going to keep pursing her?" Arya asked.

"Pursuing her?" Jon sputtered.

"I know I took a blow to the head, but I don't think I've been hallucinating the way you look at my sister." Jon felt himself flush a bit. Nothing like being called out by a teenaged girl.

"He will. He really fancies her," Sam answered for him.

"Sam!"

"What? You told me yourself you want to take her out again." Jon threw his hands up. Arya laughed.

"Yes, alright. I do rather like her," Jon confessed.

"Alright then I'll tell you. But you can't tell her I told you."

"Alright," Jon agreed and shook Arya's hand.

"It all kinda started after our ma died. You said you already heard talk about how Petyr was rather fond of her. Well, Sansa looks just like her."

Jon suddenly recalled the night on the porch last week, when Sansa had said looking like her mother was both her blessing and her curse. He felt a sickening coldness start to seep into his stomach.

"Well shortly after Bran died, Petyr came out here, told our pa he wanted to make amends for his behavior at ma's funeral. He said he'd been thinking about us a lot, and that he couldn't imagine it was easy to take care of two girls on his own now. So he said he wanted to help and offered to take up half the "burden." His idea was to have Sansa come stay with him in town. He explained it would be good for her to around other ladies. That it was what our mother would've wanted, a chance for Sansa to learn how to be a proper lady. Can you imagine telling someone's daddy that you think whores can raise her better than her own pa?"

"Are you serious?" Jon asked. He was outraged on Ned Stark's behalf.

"Yes, I'm serious. We were listening at the window. Pa of course said no. Petyr said they should ask Sansa. I think he thought she would jump for joy and beg pa to let her go with him. He didn't get the chance though, when he moved towards the door Pa grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, then he chased him off the property."

"Seems he has a lot of nerve," Sam said. "I mean to curse a man and then think he'd want to entrust his daughter to you, that takes nerve."

"You have no idea," Arya agreed. "A few weeks later, once pa was done mourning and was back to work, he came and asked about Sansa again. Only this time he wanted to know if pa had considered her future marriage prospects. That earned Petyr a punch to the face, and a warning to never look at or speak to his daughter again. Petyr told him he was just trying to help. What with him being in such a dangerous line of work and all, wouldn't it be good for him to make sure his daughters would be taken care? Especially if something were to happen to him. Pa's response was to throw him out into the street in front of half the town. Wasn't too long after that my father was killed."

Sam stood gaping. He and Jon exchanged a look.

"Did your father tell you that last part?" Jon asked.

"No, Olenna did as soon as she heard that Petyr was offering to be our guardian. She thought Sansa should be aware of what she was dealing with. Olenna found his fascination with her rather unsavory."

"But you said Sansa's rather pleasant to him," Sam said to Jon clearly confused.

"Because she has to be," Arya said. "It's not like women, especially young ones, have a lot of a lot of choices out here. We were lucky Robb came back when he did. If he hadn't we likely would've been made Petyr's wards years ago. The only saving grace of Robb's passing was that Sansa had turned eighteen before it happened so we weren't faced with that again."

"So Sansa aware of all of this?" Sam asked again.

"She thinks she can handle it, handle him. And I suppose she has so far. She did keep him from becoming our guardian for months."

"So I take it Petyr has no idea that you know you know all of this?" Jon asked.

"Actually, I imagine he does know, or would at least think we know some of it. None of it happened completely in private. But it's not like she'd ever discuss it with him and he's never brought it up. He'd never want to paint himself in a bad light or remind her how much our father hated him. Sansa thinks it's because he wants her to like him, but he wants her to get there on her own. He wants her acceptance and love in a way he never got our mother's. Disguising isn't it?"

Jon felt his jaw tighten. All he could think about was how good it would feel to wipe that smug look off Petyr's face.

xxxxxx

"You know you can talk to me about him," Jon stated as he helped Sansa unload the laundry from her cart.

"I know, but he's not a topic I like to dwell on." And I didn't want to scare you off, she thought. "I really wish Arya hadn't told you all of that. It wasn't her place."

Her sister had confessed everything to her that night over dinner. Sansa had been furious. She would've told Jon about him eventually, but she wanted to get there on her own time.

"I'm not going to be scared off of you by the likes of Petyr Baelish."

Sansa stopped and regarded him. How was it that he could already read her mind? "Scared off of me? What exactly do you mean by that?"

Jon felt his heart racing. He liked her, but was he ready to fully admit that? Was she ready to hear that?

"Just that I'm here to help you." Her expression was a bit unreadable and he started to feel a bit panicked. "And Arya," he added quickly. "In any way I can, and I will not shirk that duty because of him."

"Your duty?" she asked carefully. "The one you feel you owe it to Robb?"

He nodded and she seemed to blanche. He could tell by the way she had measured her words and the tight expression that she wore that she didn't like him calling her his duty.

"You're so very noble Jon," she said. Her voice had a cold sharp edge now. "But I don't need saving. Arya and I don't need saving. We've survived here for quite a while before you came." He opened his mouth to protest but she pressed on. "You really need to be careful in this town. I've seen what happens to noble men here, my pa and Robb included. And I would hate for you to get hurt because of some perceived debt to my brother."

"Sansa," he started to respond. He wanted to tell her he knew how to be smarter than that, but mostly he wanted to tell her that helping her, being near her, wasn't about Robb, not anymore. In truth it hadn't been since the moment he'd laid eyes on her. But before he could get started, Olenna came out the front door and greeted them. She asked Sansa to come inside, she wanted to discuss a dress she wanted made for Marge's birthday. She turned to Jon and smiled politely, formally thanked him for his help and then following Olenna inside. He stood and watched her go. He knew he needed to fix this.

xxxxxxx

He was waiting for her Monday afternoon when she rode up to High Garden. Their eyes met as he pushed away from the post he'd been leaning on.

"Were you waiting on me?" she asked as she hitched her mule to the railing.

"Yes, I noticed you missed church yesterday."

"Arya didn't want to make the trip in."

"I almost rode out to see you." Theon and Sam had talked him out of it. Theon explained that when Sansa was angry it was always best to give her time and space to calm down.

"And why was that?"

"I think we need to finish our conversation from last Friday."

She eyed him wearily. She had gone over that conversation all weekend. She still resented that he thought of her mainly as a duty, especially since she had thought he saw her as much more. But she had come to the realization that perhaps it was for the best. He would be far safer if there was nothing romantic between them.

He was looking at her and waiting. God he was far too handsome for both of their goods, she thought.

"Alright," she agreed with a sigh.

"Maybe we could get a cup of coffee? I don't really think I want to do all this right out here on the street."

"Umm sure. Just let me tell Marge I'll be back in a bit."

Sansa went inside and found Marge just inside the entry way. "You should know he's been standing out there in the heat for nearly an hour. I told him I would let you know he was looking for you, but he insisted on staying. I don't think he wanted to let you get away. You two having a lovers' quarrel?"

"We are not lovers!" Sansa hissed.

"But you want to be." Sansa blushed furiously. "Can't say I blame you. I mean look at him." Marge made a show of looking at Jon's back side as he stood on the sidewalk watching the street.

"Stop that! I just came to tell you I'd be back for the wash in a bit if that's alright."

"Course it's alright. Do you want to borrow a room?" Marge laughed and raised an eyebrow.

Sansa felt her cheeks flame as she let the idea flash through her mind for one second. It was long enough that Marge gave her a smirk and a bawdy laugh. "We're going for coffee. I'll be back," she said and went back outside before her friend could tease her any further.

"I'm ready," she said.

Jon nodded and they set off down the street towards Hobb's.

"How's Arya?"

"Doing good. She's almost as fast on the crutches as she was before the blast. Should be able to get the cast off in a few more weeks."

"Good to hear. Sam'll be happy to hear that too."

"She expects you to take her shooting once it's off. She hasn't forgotten."

"I never expected she would."

They entered Hobb's and sat at the same table they had when they had gone to see the play. They ordered two cups of coffee. He drank his black while she added a heaping tablespoon of sugar.

"So what do you want to say?" she asked when she finished stirring.

"I think you got the wrong impression last week. I wanted to clear it up."

"And what impression do you think I have?"

"I think you think I'm only spending time with you because of Robb."

"Now you're telling me what I think?" She knew she was being cross just to be cross at this point, but she'd chosen a path and decided to stick to it for now.

"That's – I'm not trying to do that," he said. His eyes were searching hers. "Let's try this again," he said and leaned back in his chair. "I feel like you're rather cross with me and I don't like it."

He held her gaze. She felt her defenses lowering. "I don't like you thinking of me as a duty or a burden. I don't want to be that for you or anyone really. This is not a safe place. And I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you because you decided to stay here just out of some sense of debt to my brother. If that's all that's keeping you here, well then I release you from it. Arya and I will be fine."

"I'm not staying here because of Robb. Yes, I came to check on you because of him sure, but it's not the reason I'm staying."

She had wanted to ask him why he was staying then; he didn't have a steady job here. Pod would be back soon enough, and then what? But she thought better of it. Part of her desperately wanted to hear him say the words, but another part of her knew she was playing with fire by allowing him to feel something for her. God what was she doing?

They sat in silence for a few moments sipping their coffee while they both seemed to work through their thoughts.

"Can I take you out?" he asked suddenly. She nearly chocked on her coffee. She had not expected that. She tried her best not to smile like a simpleton but thought she likely was losing the battle. He fidgeted nervously waiting on her response.

"Yes you may," she answered after another moment. "But there are some conditions."

"Conditions?"

"You're more than aware of Petyr's preoccupation with me. The only way this is safe for you is if we keep this a secret."

"Are you joshing me?"

"No. I can't agree to anything if I think it's it going to cause you harm."

"I think you might be overacting."

"You don't know him like I do. You need to trust me." He was giving her a look that told her he was not pleased. "If it's too much of a hassle I understand. You can rescind the offer. I'd understand," she added quietly. She hated it that Petyr's presence in her life only seemed to serve the purpose of taking any hope of happiness from it.

"Hey," Jon said softly so she would meet his eyes again. "I'm not rescinding the offer. I don't care to hide this from Petyr either, but if those are your terms, then I agree."

"Are you certain?"

"I am," he answered with an encouraging smile. "But I have my own conditions."

"Oh?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes…um….. I guess my condition is that we will have to get lunch, on account of my job at the saloon. I hope that's alright."

"That's more than alright. When?" She hoped she didn't sound too eager.

"What day are you coming back in this week?"

"Friday."

"Then Friday if that's ok with you?"

"Yeah, it's perfect for me."

They sat smiling at yeah other. They agreed to meet at eleven thirty on Friday. He paid for the coffee and walked her back to High Garden where he wished her a good day and headed back down the street.

Marge was waiting inside for her. "So good news I take it?" she asked taking in Sansa's dreamy expression.

"Now why would you think that?" she answered with a beaming smile.


	11. Chapter 11

On Friday she had arrived at Olenna's shortly before noon. Jon had told her he'd take care of all the details and she had been dying of curiosity these last few days wonder what he had come up with given the restrictions she had placed.

She entered to find the doors to the formal dining room open. Jon stood inside at the far end of the table. He finished setting down the plates of food he had been holding and then looked up at her. She took in the table. It was set nicely and there was a vase of milkwort upon it.

"I hadn't realized flowers were so hard to find here," Jon said in lieu of a greeting. "Sorry they're not prettier."

She moved to the table and ran her fingers over the leaves. "These are beautiful," she said with a reassuring smile. Jon gave her a ghost of a smile in return.

"How'd you convince Olenna to let you in here? She never lets guest use the indoor dining room."

"You should probably thank Marge for that actually. She was over here Monday evening rallying Olenna to our cause."

"Of course she was," Sansa laughed. She should've known Marge would insert herself.

"She just wants to help make sure you're happy." Jon decided there was no reason to tell her that he knew this because Marge had made a point of telling him he was to make her happy, and furthermore if he hurt her in any way he was guaranteed to wake up to a bed full of fire ants and scorpions. She had said it all with a sweet smile, but Jon had no doubt she'd do it if she thought it warranted.

"Well this is perfect." And it was. They had privacy here. She could relax here. It was almost strange so feel this relaxed while in town.

"Here, take a seat. Please," Jon said as he pulled out a chair for her.

She thanked him as she took her seat. He took his own seat to the right of her and she smiled at him. His gazed back and his eyes lingered on her face just long enough for her to start to blush. The sight made him shake his head a bit before he told her dig in.

It was clear they were both a bit nervous, so initially they kept to small talk. But once they finished eating they started to discuss a wider variety of things, and by some miracle they had even managed to keep to happier topics the entire time.

Their time together flew by. Olenna had slipped back in a few minutes ago and had looked pleasantly surprised to see them still in the dining room. "Don't mind me," she called as she disappeared to the rear of the house.

Her appearance made Sansa look at the clock. It was getting on in the afternoon and she still had work to do. Reluctantly she told Jon she needed to go and offered to help him clean up. He insisted he would take care of it after she left.

They got up from the table and moved to the entry way. "Will you be at church Sunday?" he asked shifting back and forth on his feet ever so slightly.

"We plan to be."

"Do you think it'd be alright if Sam and I sat with you and Arya for the service?"

"Of course. It's church after all." She might not want Petyr to know they were seeing one another romantically, but there was no reason she couldn't be seen being friendly with him, especially at church.

"Great, I look forward to it." There was a tension between them now. Sansa hadn't felt anything like it before and it made her feel very aware of her body and how close it was to Jon's.

"Can we do this again Monday? Lunch I mean," Jon asked after a moment.

"I'd very much like that."

"Great." They continued to stand in the hall. Jon wondered if he should kiss her. He wanted to, but then this was their first date. He didn't want her to think he was too pushy.

The clock struck two then and snapped the tension. "I better go. I told Arya I'd be back by four."

"Of course."

They said their goodbyes quickly and then she left to finish her deliveries.

She saw him again on Sunday, and they did sit in the same pew. However, they ended up with Arya and Sam between them because the boys had come in late. She was initially disappointed, but when she snuck a look at him during the opening prayer, she decided it was probably for the best. She doubted she'd have been able to focus on the sermon while fighting the temptation to touch Jon's hand.

Nearly three weeks had passed since their first date and things were still going well. They had shared five meals and three church services. In some ways it scared her a little. It had been almost too easy, like she was living in one of her dreams, and not just because of her relationship with Jon. Other things were falling into place as well.

When she hadn't been with Jon she had been working her ass off. Due to the extra mending she had taken on, she had more needle pricks in her hand than she could count, but in the end, it had been worth it. Because despite the pay cut Petyr had made her take, she had still been able to make the monthly mortgage payment. And not only had she made up it, but she'd actually come out a bit ahead. That realization had forced her into the alley way next to the bank, where she had cried in relief. In that moment she finally started to let herself believe that she was strong, that she might actually on day be able to do all the things she hoped for.

Arya would be getting her cast off at the end of this week which had led to Sansa declaring a moratorium on any mining operations at the claim, much to Arya's annoyance. But Sansa would not be swayed. She told Arya they could discuss it again come the fall, but right now she would not tolerate her risking heat stroke or some other injury. After quite a bit of back and forth Arya had reluctantly agreed.

"You need to swear it. Just saying yeah, yeah, ok fine is not enough."

"You don't believe me?" Arya asked in mock offense.

"No. I can see the lingering defiance in your eyes. So you're gonna have to swear it to me on ma and pa's grave."

"God you're intense. Must you be such a worry wort?!"

"Worry wort?! You almost blew yourself up! I'd like to go the rest of the summer without worrying about that again. Or heat stroke, or a lightning strike, or you getting caught in a flash."

"Fine. Fine. Just stop listing all of your worries."

And so Arya swore to back off the claim at least until the heat died down.

"Well I'm glad that's settled," Sansa said afterwards. "So, I was thinking that if you helped more with the wash, I could focus more on the mending."

"Ah ha! So this was your plan all along!"

"It wasn't a plan." Arya gave her a look. "It wasn't! But it makes sense. We need the money."

"What if I have another idea?"

"As long as it doesn't involve dynamite, I'm all ears." Arya stuck her tongue out in response.

"Well Jon's gonna teach me to shoot better, so I was thinking… I could hunt. I'm already pretty good with jackrabbits, but if I can get good enough for quail and peasant, well I think I can sell them to the butcher."

Arya was already rather skilled in snares and traps, it wasn't a terrible idea. But Sansa didn't relish the idea of her traipsing through the desert alone with a gun. "Can I think about it?" she asked after another moment of deliberation.

"Sure." Arya's tone told her that she was going to be doing this with or without Sansa's blessing.

She decided she would talk to Jon about it when she met him Tuesday at the Cerwyn claim. He had told her after church on Sunday that Brienne needed him early Monday due to a delivery and so she had suggested he come out and meet her. She had felt rather bold and resourceful with the suggestion.

When she told Marge about it the following day, she had thought it was funniest thing she'd heard all month.

"So you asked him to meet you, all alone, in an abandoned house?" Marge asked. Sansa could tell she was fighting a smirk.

"Not in the way you're implying," Sansa responded slightly offended. Marge lost the fight with the smirk then. "Well it's not like there are a lot of places to have secret dates in this town. I thought it might be nice to see him outside of your grandmother's house or church for once."

"And I can only imagine how eagerly he accepted that invitation," Marge teased her.

"Jon's a gentleman and he accepted as one," Sansa said narrowing her eyes at her friend.

"What does that even mean?" Marge laughed.

"It means he accepted promptly but he was not overly eager."

"Well you certainly don't want him to be over eager."

"Margaery!"

"What?" she asked and raised an eyebrow at her. Suddenly Sansa felt a bit foolish. What if Jon saw it like Marge?

"Oh god, do you really think he thinks…... that he thinks I want…. Oh god."

"Calm down! I was only teasing." She took Sansa's hand, the teasing smile now gone. "You have nothing to worry about. As you said, Jon's a gentleman."

Sansa knew she was right, but still, as a result of that conversation, she had been nervous when he'd arrived. But he had calmed her nerves when he hadn't shown even a hint of disappointment as she told him they would be spending their time together only on the large porch.

They had eaten the picnic she had packed which had included her mother's prickly pear pie. She discussed Arya's proposal with him and he offered to take her out hunting in addition to the shooting lessons if that would make Sansa more comfortable with the idea. She said it would. She knew Arya would be thrilled she was agreeing.

Eventually they cleaned up and packed everything in Lady's saddle bags. They stood now not far from their horses, near the porch, to shade themselves from the heat.

"Thanks again for bringing that pie. Now I understand why Robb went on and on about it."

"I'm glad you liked it. I was nervous it might not live up to its reputation, especially since you heard about my mother's, and they were far better than mine."

"I doubt that."

"You're just saying that because you have to."

They both laughed, and as their laughter faded away she felt the air around them charge and shift. It reminded her of the way things felt before the monsoon storms broke in the evenings. She closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself and then opened them as he gently placed his hands on her cheeks. He angled her face up to his, studying her eyes and her lips. She had sighed ever so slightly, relishing the way his rough hands felt on her cheeks.

"Can I kiss you?" he murmured. Words were lost to her and so she nodded her consent.

He tilted forward and kissed her then. His mouth was warmer and softer than she had expected. His beard tickled slightly but she found she liked it. She was just getting use to the sensation when he pulled away.

"What?" he asked softly when he took in the expression on her face.

"Again," she whispered. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her once more.

It was longer this time, and when his tongue swept between her lips she marveled at the taste of him. It was the taste of earth, smoke, sunshine and prickly pear. She knew until the day she died, prickly pear would now make her think of him. After several long moments he had pulled away.

"We should head back," he said. His voice suddenly seemed very hoarse.

"Ok," she agreed breathlessly.

"I'll see you Friday?"

"Yes," she answered with a smile.

xxxxxx

Friday found them in Olenna's backyard. It had just been too hot to stay inside today, and with no one else besides Olenna there, they saw no harm and spending their time in the fenced in backyard.

"I was thinking I should walk over to Oathkeepers with you today," she said as their time together was coming to an end.

"Really?"

"Yes. I have a drop off and I thought I'd catch up with Brienne."

"Alright." He was more than happy to have her walk with him, but he was surprised she would suggest it. Especially since they were still really only seen in public together at church, and that was a church Petyr rarely attended and there were always other people acting as a buffer. Their path to the saloon would lead them right past all of Petyr's places.

She could tell he was trying to puzzle out her request. "I was thinking maybe it was time people started to get used to seeing us together a bit more." It came out more like a question than she had meant it to. Jon drew her into his arms.

"We don't need to rush it."

"We're far from rushing it," she said looking up at him. "It's been over a month. I – I don't want to keep hiding it." He knew the struggle she'd been having over this. In the last week they had discussed it more than once. In the beginning he hadn't wanted to hide all this, but as he had come to understand the town and Petyr's influence over it, he had come to understand why Sansa was hesitant to risk his anger.

"You're certain?" He'd hide in Olenna's dining room with her till the end of his days if that's what she wanted.

"It's just walking. Friends walk together." He gave her a look that said, "But we're not friends." She sighed softly. "I just think that if we're seen together more and more, well people will just get used to it and it'll eventually stop attracting attention."

He thought it was rather wishful thinking on her part, but if she was ready than so was he. He had meant what he'd said before, Petyr would not scare him away.

So they had set out to Oathkeepers soon after. Jon was carrying the bag of laundry meant for Brienne. They passed on the far side of the street from The Baelish Block. A careful glance found the sidewalk there clear of Petyr and his men. And it helped that it was the end of the lunch hour, so the street was rather busy with folks returning to work. It was much easier to blend in than he had anticipated.

They arrived at the doors of Oathkeepers and she smiled at him. "See? No one even gave us a second glance."

He knew she was saying that to reassure herself that they had made the right the decision. He wanted to reassure her as well and so without thinking drew her to him.

"Jon," she said after a moment.

He released her and followed her gaze across the street to the front of The Mockingbird that sat diagonally across from Oathkeepers. No one was out front, but he knew she was reminding him they still needed to proceed with cautious.

"Right," he said turning back to her. He didn't want to think any more about Petyr today. "Come on, let's go see Brienne."

xxxxxxxx

The following Monday they stood in the alley way that ran alongside Olenna's. Sansa was against the side of the house, her arms encircling his neck. "One more," she pleaded.

"You know you're really running behind schedule today," he teased.

"They can all wait. I can't leave here until you're properly kissed me."

Jon laughed softly at her as he leaned forward. "I'm rather certain I properly kissed you in the backyard already," he whispered into her ear.

"That was the backyard. This is not the backyard," she whispered in response.

He pushed her hair aside and kissed the side of her neck right under her ear. She shivered slightly despite the summer heat. She could never get enough of his kisses. And since she won't be able to see him Friday as he had agreed to accompanied Sam and Doc T on a supply run to Charleston, she needed to get a week's worth in today.

He trailed his lips along her jaw next and then captured her lips. One arm slide around her waist and pulled her against him while the other wound into her hair. She couldn't help but sigh. When his tongue parted the seam of her mouth she ran a hand into the curls at the nap of his neck and he sighed back. He hadn't kissed her this deeply before. All those soft twinges and desires she had felt stirring before were nothing compared to the heat that was now beginning to coil in her lower abdomen.

She drew back just enough to catch a breath. "Jon," she breathed against his lips.

"Sansa?" a woman's voice called from the end of the alley. They pushed apart immediately and turned to see Roz standing at the end of the alley. "I – I'm glad I found you. I was just coming to ask Olenna if she had seen you today. Petyr was getting rather worried," she said glancing at Jon from the corner of her eye.

"I see. Well I'm just - just running a bit late, but I'm on my way there next. If you'd like, I'll give you a ride back."

"Don't be silly, it's just down the street. You finish up here and I'll just go let Petyr know you are on the way," Roz said. She turned and entered back onto the street before Sansa could respond.

"Sansa," he said and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't how –"

"Don't apologize," she said as she took his other hand. "There was never going to be a good way for him to learn the truth. At least now we can stop hiding."

"Should I go with you?" He didn't like the idea of her going to Petyr's on the heels of this news. There was no telling how he was going to react.

"No." He gave her a look to indicate it hadn't really been a question. "He's not going to hurt me, not like that. I can bear his lecture, I've been preparing for it since you asked me out," she assured him. Jon exhaled loudly to show his disapproval. "You being there will only make it worse. You know that. Trust me, please."

"I don't like it," he said after a long moment.

"I'll come by Oathkeepers right after. I promise." He exhaled again and then finally nodded.

"I don't like it," he repeated.

"I know, but this is the way it needs to be."


	12. Chapter 12

She tightened her grip on the reins to stop the trembling of her hands. As her cart rounded the back side of the buildings headed in the direction of The Triple P, she reminded herself once again there was nothing to be afraid of. At least not for the next few minutes.

She had been telling Jon the truth when she said Petyr won't hurt her. Other than the one time he had shaken her for asking about the curse, he had never laid a hand on her in anger. Direct physical violence was not Petyr's way. No, his weapons of choice were manipulations and plans, and those would take time. And even then she knew he still won't physically harm her, no he'd reserve that punishment for Jon. She wondered now how she'd ever been able to convince herself that being with him would not have consequences. She started to feel sick at the thought that she had put him in this danger.

She came to a stop behind the brothel. There were several bags of laundry and no Petyr. She blinked rapidly, unable to believe it. After nearly a minute, she let out a shaky breath and climbed down from the cart. She loaded the laundry into the back and when she finished she looked up towards the building. She expected to see him at the very least glowering down at her from the window, but again there was no sign of him.

Maybe Roz hadn't had a chance to tell him, she thought. It had only been about twenty minutes after all. She wasn't foolish enough to think Roz would keep the secret long, and there was no use begging her to. There was no way she would risk Petyr's wrath to help her. She couldn't blame her for that either.

She climbed back in the cart and left before anyone came out to stop her. She headed down the back side of Main Street until she came across an alley that was large enough to cut through.

She emerged on to Main Street proper and shortly thereafter came to a stop in front of Oathkeepers. She climbed down and tied up the mule. She went inside and Jon looked up from behind the bar. When he recognized it was her, he nearly dropped the bottle of whiskey he had been holding. He set the bottle down and crossed to meet her at the door. He immediately pulled her into an embrace.

"That was quick," he said as he released her and searched her face for signs of distress.

"He wasn't out there." Jon's face showed a mixture of relief and confusion.

"Maybe she won't tell him."

"She will. It's only a matter of time."

"Sansa," Brienne called as she entered from the kitchen. Jon stepped aside so Brienne could fully see her.

"You told her?" Sansa asked quietly as Brienne moved towards them. She could see the concern on her friend's face.

"I had to. It was written all over my face."

When Brienne was close enough, she searched her face as well.

"Do you have time for a chat?" Brienne asked curtly, her eyes not leaving Sansa. She nodded. "Jon, you have the bar." Brienne took Sansa's hand and led her away before Jon had even agreed.

Brienne lead her to the side of the saloon and then up the stairs to her apartment on the second floor. They entered and Brienne closed the door with a bit more force than Sansa thought necessary.

"You're angry," Sansa said. She was a bit shocked that Brienne was reacting this way.

"Are you alright? What did he say just now?"

"Are you angry with Jon?" Sansa gapped at her in disbelief. She had thought Brienne liked him.

Brienne looked nearly as shocked at Sansa felt. "What? Jon? Why would you think I'm talking about Jon?"

"Because you just found out we're together and you think it's a bad idea."

Brienne started to laugh then. "Sansa, I adore Jon. And he may have just admitted to me that you are together, but I've known long before today something was going on there."

"I didn't think we were so obvious. We – I was trying to keep it a secret until I was sure."

"Oh don't fret. I don't think it's obvious to everyone. But I've known you since you were a small girl, and I sit behind you in church. That was the real give away." Sansa opened her mouth to ask how and Brienne laughed again. "You constantly watch each other from the corner of your eyes. And then there was the lingering touches when you shared the hymnal. I suspected there were feelings. But when I finally realize that the days you were in town were the same days that Jon came in to start his shift grinning like a loon, well I knew then it was more than just feelings."

"Oh."

"It's clear to me that you seem to have been making each other quite happy. So what is it you wanted to be sure of?"

"I wanted to make sure it would stick I guess. I mean plenty of people go on dates, they don't all work out. I just thought…."

"You just wanted to make sure it was something worth fighting for before you got in the fight. There's no shame in that. It's rather practical." Sansa gave a weak smile. "So is it?" Sansa tiled her head in slight confusion. "Is it worth the fight?"

"Yes." Brienne smiled for a moment, but the smile disappeared as she observed the look on Sansa's face.

"What?"

"Is it worth his life though?"

"Sansa," she said gently.

"Don't tell me it's stupid. Proof or not, we both know what he did to my father."

"True, but Jon's not the sheriff. He's not in some dangerous position that Petyr can use to make it look like an accident. Murders rarely happen here. We don't have shoot outs at high noon. Jon's a bartender. If he ends up dead, well it would draw far too much attention. That's not Petyr's way."

"Robb wasn't in a dangerous position," she countered.

"That's not true. The mine is extremely dangerous. And you yourself told me Robb directly threatened Petyr. I'd like to think with your influence Jon would be smarter than that."

"He could make it look like an accident."

"He could. But Jon's smart and he's very much aware of what he's dealing with here. That's going to make it much harder for Petyr to get the drop on him. Plus I think you're forgetting his own skill with a gun." Sansa didn't look convinced. "Did Petyr say something when you were over there?"

"No, I didn't even see him actually."

"Well, maybe he won't find out." Sansa shook her head, they both knew there was no real chance of that. "You could always lie. If he asks, just tell him Roz lied or misunderstood what she saw."

"There was no way to misunderstand what she saw," Sansa said as a deep flush spread across her cheeks. "I don't want to lie or hide anymore," she added softly.

"Alright then. You know I have your back, his too. I'll do whatever I can to help you and Jon, and I'm not the only one. He curried a lot of favor when he saved that boy from that rattler. People like him, Petyr would be foolish to move against him."

Sansa exhaled. Maybe Brienne had a point. Her father hadn't totally understood the threat Petyr posed, he had seen him through a lens her mother had crafted. Jon didn't have that. Jon could see him for exactly what he was.

"You deserve to be happy. After everything that you have endured, you deserve to be happy. Jon's exactly the type of man your parents would've wanted you to end up with."

She thought of the bedtime stories her father had told her. Stories of handsome warrior princes that rescued the fair maidens. He had promised her one day she'd have her very own. Someone that would be brave, gentle and strong.

"I want to believe you," she said softly.

"Then you should. He's going to be angry and petty, but as I said, he'd be a fool to move against Jon. It would expose him for the snake he is. You know he can't let that happen. There's enough people in this town that would just love an excuse to push him from power given the opportunity."

Sansa wanted to believe her, and she believed some of it. It was true, Petyr would never want to expose himself that openly. But she couldn't trust that given time, he won't be able to find a way to get Jon out of the way.

xxxxxxx

"The mighty hunters return," Sansa said as Arya and Jon entered the house. "How'd it go?"

"See for yourself," Arya said triumphantly as she set the kill down on the table. Sansa looked. It consisted of two pheasants. One was expertly shot through the base of the neck, the other looked to have been quite mangled.

"Did Nymeria get to that one?" Sansa asked. Arya's face fell and she glared at Sansa. "What?" Sansa asked confused.

"I'm going to go clean these," Arya said before grabbing the birds and storming back outside.

Jon raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and then ran his hand into his beard as he sighed. "What? What did I say?" Sansa asked.

"That mangled bird was HER kill. She's still working on her aim, so she fired twice to kill it all the way."

"Oh no! I didn't mean… I didn't know." She hadn't intended to hurt Arya's feelings, but that bird really did look like a dog had tossed it around.

"It's alright. I'll go talk to her. I'll tell her about my first rabbit hunt and how all that was left when the smoke cleared was its cotton tail."

Jon planted a quick kiss on her cheek and then headed outside to see to Arya.

He had come out early today for Arya's first shooting lesson. They had shot target practice in the yard for a while before they had headed out into the scrub to hunt.

She finishing making lunch while they finished cleaning the birds and when they came back inside Arya seemed in a far better mood.

As they ate lunch Arya told her all about the hunt and how Jon had shot the first bird perfectly. "You should've seen it. Once shot and it dropped right where it stood. All the meat is perfectly intact."

"You'll get that good someday. Just remember it takes practice," Jon said.

After lunch he and Sansa had stayed on the porch while Arya went to the barn with a plan to butcher her bird. She wanted Sansa to use it for dinner. The intact bird was to be taken to the butcher and sold.

"There's not much left, she shot most of the breast off," he warned her.

"I can probably still make a soup from what's left. I'll make it work. I owe her that much for making her feel bad about it." Jon laughed softly.

"Are you going to town tomorrow?" he asked.

"You know I am. It's Friday." Jon nodded. This was the first chance they'd had to speak alone since Monday.

"Maybe you shouldn't. I couldn't get out of that trip with Doc T and Sam."

"Jon. I'm not hiding out here at Winterfell. I have a business to run. And we've talked about this already. I have to deal with him eventually."

"Yeah, I know. But I think I'd prefer not to be miles away when you see him the first time about this."

"Are you certain he knows now?" Sansa asked turning towards him.

"No, not certain. His level of glaring is still at the same level as before." It was true. He had encountered Petyr a couple of times since Monday. They had been on opposite sides of the street both times, each observing the other, neither tipping their hand.

"It'll be fine. I'm owed by god for it to be fine."

"Alright. But you'll stop by Brienne's before you head home? Let her know if there's anything to let me know?"

"I promise. It'll be fine and if anything does happen I'll tell you all about it after church Sunday."

"Alright," he sighed. He didn't like this one bit, but he didn't want to break his promise to Sam. And Sansa was right, she couldn't hide out on her claim. He put his arm around her waist and drew her to his side. She tipped her head and rested it on his shoulder as they watched Arya emerge from the barn. "Till Sunday then."

xxxxxx

Sansa closed her eyes and thought about the safety of that moment as she pulled to a stop behind The Triple P Friday morning. Petyr was waiting for her.

"Good morning," she greeted him as she climbed down from the cart. He said nothing so she began to unload the bags of clean clothes.

"I have to say I'm rather disappointed." She stopped unloading and turned towards him.

"Why? I'm on time and everything's clean. I even got the smell out of those curtains."

"So now you want to play games on top of ignoring the advice I so generously gave you just a few weeks back?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to," she said turning back to the cart and grabbing another bag of clothes.

"I would've thought you better than this," he said coldly. She froze with her back still to him. "But perhaps I've been wrong this whole time. I have always thought that surviving all you have, you'd be strong and wise, but now I see that the lack of oversight has allowed you to become a liar and a sneak."

She turned slowly and met his gaze. His expression and tone sent a chill down her spine despite the sweltering temperature. She had expected him to snipe and make barbed comments, maybe even shout. She thought she had been prepared to take it, but his words cut her deep.

"Roz told me everything. Do you deny what she saw? Should I have her punished for being a liar?"

"I'm not sure what she saw exactly." Petyr scoffed and his jaw ticked. "But yes, Jon and I are seeing each other."

"I told you that you need to be careful with your reputation. Do you know how disappointed I was to hear you'd been caught openly cavorting with the bar dog from Oathkeepers? The very same man that everyone was whispering about staying overnight with you all those weeks ago."

"His name is Jon."

"I know his name!" he snapped and then seeing the look on her face, seemed to reel himself back in. He smoothed his hand over his hair and narrowed his eyes at her. "How long do you think it's going to be before people start whispering about your loose morals?"

"Loose morals?" Sansa repeated in shock.

"Yes. Nothing you two have done has been proper."

"What – what are you even talking about? We're courting is all. We kissed. We're allowed to kiss."

"You're courting? If that's so why did he not come and speak to me about it? We both know that would've been the proper protocol. He should've asked for my blessing."

"What?! Your blessing?"

"Yes. I'm the closest thing you have to family after all."

"Why would he need your permission? I'm of age, I can make my own decisions."

"You might be of age, but I still have a duty to your parents nonetheless, god rest their souls. That man is practically a drifter. Pod's coming back soon, he's about to be unemployed. I told you before, I don't trust him and I'd hate to see you get taken advantage of by him."

"Jon would never do that! He's a good man! He cares for me!"

"How do you know that? Because he kisses you oh so sweetly? You hardly even know him. After all, he's only been here a few weeks." It was true, he had only been here a short time, but she knew him all the same. She knew him in her soul, but she knew better than to say that Petyr that at the moment. "You make a rather enticing target," he continued. "You must know that. You're beautiful and you're essentially alone. As I pointed out before, you hold a sizable piece of land due to your brother's passing."

"Jon isn't trying to take Winterfell from me."

"I think you've been blinded by that handsome face of his. Have you ever stopped to think about why he sought you out?"

"How'd you know – how'd you know he sought me out?"

"I started asked around weeks ago, back when it became apparent to me that he had an interest in you. It didn't take me long to learn he served in the same regiment as your brother."

"Yes, he was friends with Robb. He told me that, and he told me he came here to make sure we were ok. That's it."

"So he admitted that he knew you were all alone? So he was aware with your brother's passing that you would hold whatever assets your family possessed. You don't find that alarming?"

"I suppose he would've been aware, but that's not why he came," she said. He might know she'd be Robb's heir, but it's not as if he knew what Robb even possessed prior to his arrival. He and Robb had parted way years ago, before they had even possessed Winterfell as it was now.

"You're so like your mother with that soft kind trusting heart." He seemed lost in his own memories for a moment as he looked at her. Sansa shook her head in disgust. "Which is the exact reason I need to protect you," he went on.

"I appreciate your concern, but you are not my father." His eyes flashed an underlying rage. "And I am of age," she continued. "We have not violated any rules of propriety in our decision to purse a relationship. You are not required to protect me. I'm sorry though if you think this has reflected poorly on you in some way."

"You think I'm concerned about how this makes ME look?" he scoffed.

"Well what else about me pursing a relationship could possibly offend you so?" She was pushing too far she realized. She wished instantly she could take the words back.

"I assure you my reputation can endure whatever tarnish your actions might attempt to put on it," he said dismissively. "Again, I feel I have a duty to your folks. I only want to protect you and you're fragile reputation. You know how this town likes its gossip. And I'd so hate to see something happen that would set all their tongues wagging. Especially since we both hate it when that curse nonsense gets bantered about." Right then she knew how angry he truly was. He must be furious if he was bringing up the curse on his own. She also knew there was a threat in his words. She knew it because she knew him. His words were twisting her insides despite the now gentle tone.

"No, no we won't anyone talking about that again," she agreed quietly.

"So you'll take some time to evaluate this relationship then? Perhaps question him a bit on what he wants from you?"

She felt numb now. She wanted this conversation to be over and she wanted away from him. She nodded even though she didn't mean it.

"Wonderful. I'm glad we could have this talk. It'd be a terrible shame for you to have to learn the hard way what happens when you don't heed my advice." He caressed her cheek and ran his hand down her braid. She did her best not to shudder from the touch. "I'll send one of the girls out with your money," he said before turning to go back inside.

Sansa watched him go and hoped he was smart enough not to send out Roz.


	13. Chapter 13

"So tell me all about it," Jon said as he slipped her hand into his as they exited the church.

"Petyr thinks you're trying to steal Winterfell," Arya said from the other side of Sansa.

"Arya, maybe you could go see if Gendry wants to go fishing with us this afternoon," Sansa said. Arya rolled her eyes in response but only after Sansa noted a suppressed smile. "Alright, but only because you want me to ask him. We'll meet you at the cart." With that she took off in search of Gendry.

"So I've come to steal Winterfell from you?" he asked as they walked towards the pavilion to get out of the sun. "That's his big issue with me?"

"It's one of his… concerns. He thinks you've come here in order to endear yourself to me so that you can somehow take it from me. That's what drifters do after all."

"I'm a drifter, am I?" he asked clearly amused. "Well I have been moving around with the army since I was fifteen, so perhaps he's right." She smiled and rolled her eyes. He took her hand, kissed it and drew her closer. "For the record, I'm not here to steal your home from you."

"I wasn't actually concerned you were."

"I know." He gave her that soft slightly lopsided smile she loved so much and she couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. It was quick and rather chaste given they were out where everyone from church could see them, but it still felt a bit scandalous.

They stepped apart and turned when they heard a wolf whistle behind them. "I knew you were a goner as soon as you started asking after her," Tormund said as he drew near.

Sansa tensed a bit. Tormund was rather superstitious and normally gave her a rather wide berth when he could. She wondered if he would want to talk Jon out of being with her. She gave Tormund a nervous smile.

"So how long this been going on?" Tormund asked looking between the two of them. If Sansa didn't know better, she'd have thought he was actually smiling.

"Tormund," Jon said, an edge of warning in his voice.

Sansa felt herself straighten a bit under his gaze. "Just over five weeks now," she answered.

"Well damnit," Tormund groaned. Sansa felt Jon tense before Tormund continued. "I guess you have more balls than I thought. Now I owe Greyjoy five dollars."

"You what?" Jon sputtered.

"You bet on us?" Sansa said and then started to laugh.

"I bet on everything," Tormund shrugged. "Only thing that keeps life interesting."

"Were you betting against us?" Jon asked still slightly annoyed.

"Nah. I saw the way you kept looking at her that first time you met. Then the way you looked at her when little Stark near blew herself up. I knew it was only a matter of time. I just figured it'd take you a lot longer to get up the courage."

Sansa continued to laugh and Jon just shook his head. "Speaking of just a matter of time," Tormund said and then hurried a way. They watched him make a beeline for Brienne who caught sight of him at the last moment and quickly turned to head in the other direction.

"Shit stirrer," Jon said smiling at her.

"Shit stirrer," she echoed.

"So what are his other concerns?" Jon asked as they started to walk towards the livery.

"Do we have to keep talking about him? It's not like I believe any of them are valid."

"I just want to know what else I'm being accused of."

"He's offended you didn't seek out his permission. He doesn't think it's proper for us to be courting without his blessing."

"Hmm," Jon said as they continued to walk.

Sansa grabbed his arm and made him stop. "Do you think you should've asked him?" Jon gave her a soft look. "He won't have said yes. He would've used that knowledge to try and turn me away from you before we even knew what was happening."

"I know. And we don't need his permission. It just makes me wonder, do you think your father would approve of us?"

She smiled at that. It meant a lot to her that he would even think to be concerned with something like that. "I do. My father would've absolutely approved of you. You're everything he could ever hope for me." Sansa blushed and looked away then, she was giving away too much. She had barely been able to stop herself from ending that sentence with "to have in a husband." She realized then she would never be able to give him up, not even under threat of harm. It made her happy and sad in equal measure. She'd have to cling to the hope that Marge and Brienne were right in their assertions, that Petyr won't be so bold to move against Jon.

"That's good to hear," Jon said. She looked back at him and his wide smile. It was so hard to worry when he smiled at her like that. "I think you had the right idea earlier," he went on. "We don't need to talk about Petyr Baelish anymore today."

xxxxxx

"Well did she say why?" Sansa asked Mhaegen as they stood in the alley behind the Summer Isle the following week.

"Just that she wasn't going to need your services anymore because we're going to handle it in house. I'm real sorry Sansa," the girl said. "Real sorry."

"It's not your fault. Will you let her know if she changes her mind that I'd be happy to take back the work? And if it's about price…. tell her I can give her the same price I'm giving Petyr Baelish." She cringed as she made the offer, but some money was still better than none. The payment to the bank was due soon.

"I will. And again, I'm sorry, but hey if I need a new dress or something like that, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Thanks."

This was the second account she had lost this week and she had one guess as to the real reason. She sighed as she got in the cart and headed to High Garden. She hitched the mule to the post in the alley and went inside.

"Hey there Sansa," Loras said as he watched several can can dancers up on the stage. "You looking for Marge?"

"Yeah."

"She's still up in her room."

"Thanks."

"Sure thing," he said turning his attention back to the dancers. "No! No! No! Just stop!" she heard him yell as she headed up the stairs.

Marge's door was cracked open but she knocked anyways. "Come in," Marge called from the other side.

Sansa pushed the door opened and step inside the room. Marge was sitting at her vanity taking out the rags from her hair that she used to curl it sometimes.

"You look rather upset my dear," Marge observed as she studied Sansa's reflection in the mirror.

"Probably because I am," she said and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What happened?" Marge asked turning to face her.

"The Summer Isle just said they no longer need my services."

"So that's two now?"

"Yeah. Did you get a chance to ask around?"

"I did," Marge answered and started to play with her hair.

"And?"

"The official answer was that they feel they can do it cheaper in house. Unofficially there are concerns about you recent activities."

"You cannot be serious," she gaped. "You're telling me that the brothel owners are so pious now that they're pulling their business because of a rumor I sleeping with Jon Snow or that I what, I slept with Sam Tarly two months ago?"

"I doubt anyone thinks you slept with Sam Tarly," Marge said dismissively.

"That's not the point! And be nice to poor Sam. He's got a heart of gold."

"I know. He comes in here at least three times a week, tipping fifty percent on sarsaparilla just so he can steal glances at Gilly. It makes my teeth hurt."

"We're getting off topic."

"Sorry. Anyways that's the answer I got when I asked. But then I had Shae also ask around."

"And?"

"And you'd be right that no one cares all that much if you did hitch your skirts up for either of them. There's a whispered rumor Petyr is putting the pressure on a few places he holds the building leases on. He wants them to drop you."

"But why? He's still using me." She knew Petyr was still upset with her, despite the fact that he had tried to act like he wasn't. His new tract just seemed to be concerned disappointment. He had even half apologized for losing his temper during their conversation last week. She hadn't been fooled, but she hadn't thought he'd do something like this.

"And he always will, but you told me yourself he made you lower your price and he's clearly upset about you seeing Jon. I think you know why he wants you to have less clients. He wants to punish you, but he also wants to put you a position where you'll be needing his help. I doubt he can stand the idea that you don't need him for anything now."

"I should've seen this coming. How did I convince myself he won't be this petty?"

"Because you've been too worried he was going to do something drastic."

Sasna exhaled and laid back on the bed. "I keep hoping that money from the mining company shows up, but there is only one more scheduled stage before the end of the month, and I have little faith they'll actually come through." She stared up at the ceiling running figures in her head. "I can make this month," she said after a couple of minutes. "But if this keeps up I might be in trouble come next month."

"Do you want a loan? Loras and I can loan you the money for next month."

Sansa sat up. "What if Petyr finds out you're helping me?"

"Fuck him. We own our building. And he already hates us anyways, what do I care if he has one more reason? Plus, I'd get plenty of satisfaction just knowing I helped thwart that jackass' plans."

"I didn't come here planning to ask you for money, I want you to know that," Sansa said looking down at her hands.

"You didn't ask, I offered. You just let me know what you need. I'll get it for you before your payment is due."

"Thank you," Sansa said holding back her tears.

"Think nothing of it," Marge said turning back to the mirror. "I mean if things had worked out differently," she continued, "Well, we might've been family." Sansa noticed for the first time that behind the boas, there was a photo of Robb tucked into the frame of the vanity mirror.

She had known that Robb was fond of Marge, but seeing his picture here made her realize that they might have been something more than just two people that liked to flirt with each other.

Marge saw her expression in the mirror and turned back to her. "Please don't look all sad like that."

"Sorry," she murmured and wiped her eyes. "I want you to know I really appreciate the offer. I hate having to take your charity though."

"Stop that, it's not charity. You can pay me back with interest if that makes you feel better."

"Of course," Sansa agreed.

"Prefect. I wish all my business dealings were this easy."

From downstairs they could hear Loras shouting at the dancers again. "Come on," Marge sighed standing up. "Let's go save the can can girls from my brother."

xxxxxx

The following week Jon was behind the bar at Oathkeepers. He looked up to see Sansa and Arya come through the swinging doors. He gave them a wave in greeting as they settled into a table near the far end of the bar. The place was mostly empty, the lunch crowd having just cleared out.

He hadn't seen Sansa since Sunday. He had been busy helping Brienne with a delivery and then he and Arya had gone south of town for hunting. Sansa had been busy trying to solicit new clients to make up for the ones she had lost.

When she had told him last week what Petyr was up to he had wanted to confront him. She had begged him not too. He had relented, with a plan to wait until she left town. Unbeknownst to him, she had recruited Theon and Sam to her cause. They made sure after she left that he hadn't crossed the street and punched him right in the face.

He finished pouring whiskeys for a couple of men and then made his way over to them. "And how are the Stark girls on this fine summer day?"

"Fine summer day? It's as hot as a whorehouse on nickel night out there," Arya said.

"Arya!" Sansa cried appalled.

Arya snickered and made no attempt to apologize. Jon suppressed a smile so as not to irk Sansa. Sansa for her part just rolled her eyes to the heavens and sighed.

Brienne came out of the kitchen a moment later carrying two plates. She had made them sandwiches. "Gotta say I agree with Arya, it's even too hot to cook," she said as she set the plates in front of the girls.

Sansa thanked her and let her know that she'd been able to let the hem down on the pants she'd asked for. Brienne thanked her and then disappeared with the laundry bag. Jon excused himself to greet a couple more patrons that had just wandered in.

"So anything special planned for today?" he asked when he came back from pouring a couple of beers for the newly arrived men.

"We already did them," Arya said after swallowing a bite of her sandwich.

"Oh?"

"We went to pay the mortgage," Arya answered with a smirk.

Jon looked at Sansa, the question clear on his face.

"Arya wanted to see the look on Petyr's face after we stopped by the bank and paid them for the month."

"Did she now?" Arya smirked some more as she took another bite of her sandwich. "And was it everything you hoped for?"

"It was pretty good. The old vulture was waiting for us when we came out of the bank. Immediately asked if we needed his assistance. You should've seen how red he turned when Sansa told him no, that she had just paid the month in full. He stalked back to The Triple P like the Apache was chasing him."

Sansa appeared to be biting her lip to stop from smiling. He knew she didn't think it wise to push Petyr's buttons, but he also knew she had to have felt rather satisfied to have survived this month despite his attempts to bring her down. He set his hand on her shoulder and looked at her proudly. "I'm sorry I missed that."

Arya smiled as she finished her sandwich. "Serves him right. He should know he's going to have to try a hellva lot harder than that to get us back under his thumb."

Jon watched Sansa's face fall. "Don't say that please," she said softly. "We don't need to be inviting bad luck."

"Sorry," Arya mumbled as she realized the challenge she had issued. She sighed and took a long drink of water.

"Well you should be proud of yourselves for making it another month. And you did it without squirt here attempting to blow herself sky high again," Jon joked to lighten the mood.

"Hey now! I keep telling you that was a one-time thing. A result of a slight miscalculation. I won't be making that mistake again."

"Course you won't, because you won't be getting near dynamite ever again. We've discussed this," Sansa said sternly.

"Speaking of dynamite," Brienne said as she appeared at their table again. "How's the ankle holding up? You complained the other day it hurt."

"Seems pretty good now. It felt a little sore cause the rain was coming, but it's back to normal now." She turned to Sansa then. "Since I'm done can I go over to Mycah's while you make your rounds?" Arya asked. Sansa nodded.

"How 'bout I walk with you? I need to send a couple telegrams," Brienne said. Arya gave her agreement. "Jon you good on your own?"

"Sure thing."

"Well alright then. You ready Arya?"

"You bet," she answered rising to her feet.

They disappeared out the door leaving Jon and Sansa behind. "I'll be right back," Jon said. He went behind the bar and got refills for the few men that were sitting at the bar and then came back over to her.

"So I heard Pod's gonna be back soon," she said.

"Yeah, within the next couple weeks I believe. I think that was the telegram she needed to send."

"So what are ya gonna do when he comes back?"

"Not sure just yet. I could try and get work in the mine." Sansa made a face. "Or, I could finally let Tormund sell me a claim. I've enjoyed bartending, but I can't imagine going to work in any of them other buckets of blood. And we both know Baelish won't likely let that happen anyhow. I'm sure he's got me blacklisted by now."

They sat quietly for a moment. "You won't leave though, right?" Sansa asked quietly.

He took her hand and caressed her cheek with the other. "No, I've got no plans on leaving. You should know that by now," he assured her as he moved his hand from cheek and ran it down her braid. They had gotten a bit bolder in there affections as of late. It seemed the more Petyr tried to push them apart, the more determined they were to show him it wasn't working.

She gave him a relieved smile. "Good."

"So I've been thinking –" he began. His words were cut off by the sound of shouting and gunfire out in the streets. "Get down," Jon ordered her as he shoved her under the table. A few people spilled in the front door, most ran towards the back of the saloon. A few moved to look out the windows.

Another shot rang out as he ran behind the bar and grabbed the shotgun Brienne kept there. He made his way to the front window and peered out.

The streets had mostly cleared. The people that were still outside were hunkered down or tucked up against the buildings.

Two men were tussling in the street outside The Landing. "You think you can hornswaggle me? You about to learn a hard lesson four flusher!" one of the men shouted as he gave the other a hard shove and sent him into the dirt.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the other man responded as he pulled himself up out of the dirt and drew his pistol. "How dare you call my honor into question!"

"What you planning to do about it old man?" the first man snarled.

"Ain't that Sheriff Slynt?" someone standing near the other window asked aloud.

"Think so, but who's the other one? Ain't seen him before," someone answered.

No one answered as they watched the men across the street staring each other down. Jon wasn't sure what was possessing him, but before he realized it he had made his way outside and now stood watching the scene from the edge of the sidewalk.

Suddenly Petyr appeared out in front of The Landing. "Gentlemen. I think what we have here is just a misunderstanding. Now there is no need to stand here baking in the sun. Why don't we holster those guns and come back on inside for a cool drink."

"This the type of operation you running now Baelish?" the first men asked and swung his gun towards Petyr.

Petyr remained calm and raised his hands to his shoulders, the palms facing forward. "Now you don't want to be doing anything you can't take back. What would your boss say if you shot me? Now did I mention the drinks would be on me?"

The man that had accused the sheriff of cheating seemed to be considering Petyr's words as he kept his gun pointed at him. Suddenly a shot rang out. All eyes flew to the sheriff.

The man turned towards the sheriff as well and looked prepared to charge him. "Now sir, you should know I do not intent to miss again," the sheriff said cocking his pistol.

"Alright, alright. I think the heat has gotten to us all. We all need to just calm down," Petyr said stepping into the street. He gave the sheriff a quick nod and he reluctantly holstered his pistol. Petyr snapped his fingers and one of the girls stepped forward and smiled at the stranger before she began to wind herself around him. "Now you can leave in a huff, or you can have that cool drink I mentioned earlier, as well as some other amenities, on the house of course. Yours to decide."

Finally after a long tense moment, the man nodded. He holstered his gun and then spit towards the sheriff before he headed back into The Landing with the girl.

"Everything is handled folks. Let's all go on with our day," Petyr said waving for everyone to disperse.

Jon hadn't seen him until now, but Tormund had been standing on the other side of the street closer to the argument. He gave Jon a nod when their eyes met.

"Don't you think you should be getting back to work there sheriff?" Jon heard him say as he stepped off the sidewalk and made his way over to him. The sheriff muttered something and then headed off down the street.

"Well that job'll be opening up soon," Tormund said as he reached Jon and turned so he could also watch Slynt leave.

"How you figure that?"

"You don't know who that man was I take it."

"No, why would I?"

"No reason you should I suppose," Tormund shrugged. "Now I'm not certain, but I do believe that man to be one that goes by the name Locke. He used to have a claim here some years back. Got in a bit of a dispute with his neighbor. Neighbor ended up dead and he suddenly vanished. There was a rumor he rode off with the Lannisters before splitting off with the Boltons. If he's here, then seems likely the rest might not be too far from here."

"Wait, did you say Bolton'? As in Roose Bolton and the Bolton Gang?"

"That'd be the one. And that piss-ant of a sheriff that Petyr pays to look the other way, well he just pissed him off. I'd give it a week at most before he either disappears or turns up dead." Jon turned to him with a look of concern. "Don't give me that look. You don't know the Boltons. One dead sheriff is the best the rest of us can pray for."


	14. Chapter 14

"God, is it ever not hot here?" Sam huffed.

"You just need to lose some of that northern insulation," Tormund said poking him in the side. Sam started, a giggle involuntarily escaping him. A second later he flushed a deep red, clearly embarrassed he'd been tickled.

"Are you ever gonna stop picking at him?" Brienne chided Tormund. He just grinned back at her. She shook her head and turned to Sam. "It's just extra bad today cause of the humidity. Hopefully it'll cool off once the storm breaks, probably today, tomorrow at the latest."

"You could always get in the river with the rest of them," Tormund pointed out. Sam flushed again and shook his head. Tormund stifled a laugh as Brienne glared at him once more.

They had all come down to the river today after church to cool off. The Tyrells, with some of the girls from High Garden were here, including Gilly. Tormund had been teasing him relentlessly about it.

Most of the girls were fawning over Theon, not Gilly though, she was busy talking to Sansa and Margaery. Sam was staring at her and the water longingly. "You know if things were to ever go the way you're wanting, she's gonna have to see you out of those clothes eventually," Tormund said.

"Would you leave him be," Brienne said swatting at him. Tormund grinned and caught her wrist gently. They regarded each other for a long moment and then Brienne drew her hand away and looked towards the river with a scowl. Sam sighed and left them in the shade, making his way to the river's edge. Jon waved at him and popped up from the water.

"Are you finally coming in?" Jon called shaking the water from his curls and smacking his hands on the surface of the water. Sansa and Marge shrieked and laugh it splashed them.

"Maybe after lunch," Sam answered and saw Gilly smile at him. The girls were whispering now, tossing side glances at him. Jon came towards him and then stepped on the bank to stand beside him.

"Are you really not going to come in?" Jon asked him quietly. Sam just fidgeted. "I'm not sure I can't spend another two months listening to you pine over her if you're never going to actually talk to her outside of a drink order."

"I'm trying, but she makes me so nervous. And why would she want to look at me when there's you, Theon and Loras? I'm just lucky Gendry's not here too." Gendry and Arya had gone over to Sierra Vista to get a piece of equipment for the blacksmith. Sansa and Marge had teased Arya it was a date, Arya had threatened to pull their hair out if they said that to her again.

"Well I'm spoken for, Loras is her boss, and she hasn't paid a lick attention to Theon. I'm fairly certain she only has eyes for you. Sansa and Marge said the same thing."

"They did?" Sam said, his voice coming out thin and high.

"I swear."

Sam flushed and fiddled with his hands. Blessedly Tormund bellowed lunch was ready and everyone got out of the river and headed for the shade. Jon waited on the bank for Sansa.

"Any luck?" she asked as he helped her up the bank.

"He's still working up to it." Sansa opened her mouth to offer advice. "He'll come around eventually, maybe not today, but eventually," Jon assured her.

They all gathered on the blankets in the shade and ate the lunch Sansa and Brienne had prepared. They talked and laughed and shared a jug of moonshine. After eating, most everyone headed back into the water. Sam was still hesitant, so Tormund focused on getting Sam to drink enough of the moonshine to loosen him up. Eventually he got enough in him to convince him to go put his feet in the river.

Everyone had hooted and hollered. Sam blushed as Gilly made her way over and sat beside him.

"About time. I thought we were all going to die out here before he talked to her," Marge said.

They all continued to swim and splash in the water while Sam and Gilly quietly chatted.

Tormund had just executed a cannonball expressly to soak Brienne when they heard thunder rumbled off in the distance. They had all been too carefree to notice the storm clouds building in.

"Guess that's the end of that," Loras said coming up beside Marge, Jon and Sansa.

"Oh, let's give them a little more time," Sansa said when she saw that Gilly was holding Sam's hand and tracing her finger across his palm. She looked to be reading his fortune. "The thunder didn't sound that close." As if to prove her wrong a bolt of lightning shot across the sky and the thunder cracked close by.

"Time to go folks. Monsoon's breaking," Tormund shouted.

Boos and groans were heard as everyone climb out of the river and began packing up. They loaded their blankets and baskets into the wagons.

"You coming back to town?" Marge asked Sansa.

"No, home. If I don't beat the flash I might not be able to get back in till tomorrow," Sansa answered.

"The flash?" Sam asked.

"The flooding. Sometimes the storms make the wash by our place run high. It can be nearly impossible to cross if it rains hard enough."

"I'll see you home," Jon said. "Theon can I borrow your horse?"

"Sure thing," Theon called and then turned to the High Garden girls, "Ladies, can I get a ride?" he asked with an impish grin. They answered with giggles. Loras rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to," Sansa said quietly to Jon as she suppressed a smile.

"I do actually," he said with a small smile. "My mother raised me to be a gentleman." The suppressed smile became a full one.

"Alright, let's roll out," Tormund called as the wind started to pick up.

Everyone said a final goodbye, the wagons headed back toward town; Jon and Sansa headed in the opposite direction towards Winterfell.

Sansa's horse, Lady, seemed rather skittish, whinnying loudly and startling with each crack of thunder. "She doesn't like being out in storms," Sansa explained as she leaned forward and petted the horse's neck.

The sky opened up then and began to pour down buckets of rain. It fell in nearly blinding sheets. It shocked Jon how quickly the weather had turned. They spurred the horses to pick up the pace. When they finally reached the wash near Winterfell they were soaked to the bone.

The wash was already running high, but yelling over the thunder and the wind, Sansa assured him they could cross it. She urged Lady forward, but the horse baulked and seemed very reluctant to cross. Lighting split the sky above them, the bolt hitting somewhere on the ridge. The thunder that followed was deafening and shook the ground. Lady reared back nearly throwing Sansa to the ground. Jon had no idea how she managed to stay on. When she landed back on all fours, the horse bolted alongside the wash. He could hear Sansa trying to reign the horse in, pleading with her to stop or slow.

Jon kicked his horse and gave chase. He had almost reached them when Lady's footing gave way. He heard a sickening crack that he knew wasn't the thunder. The horse went down, throwing Sansa hard to the earth. She let out a shriek as she hit the ground. She took a moment to get up, clearly dazed by the fall. Meanwhile Jon had reached them. He jumped down from his horse and intercepted her as she attempted to scramble to Lady's side. The horse was kicking and writhing in pain. He worried she might kick Sansa.

"Stay," he ordered her over the storm. Despite the rain he knew she was crying. He turned and made his way slowly to Lady, making sure to stay clear of her churning hooves. When he placed his hand on the horse's neck she calmed a bit, letting out a low whine and looked up at him. He accessed her leg, it had snapped, badly. He knew there was no saving her.

"Sansa!" he called. He looked back and she was visibly sobbing now. Her arms wrapped around her, shoulders shaking. She came forward at his call. He knew she knew what he would have to do. She knelt down next to him and patted the horse.

"Shh, girl. It'll be ok," she said, sobs chocking her words. The horse looked at her, still visibly pained, but seemed to relax more with its owner's touch.

"Sansa," he said. She sobbed and nodded.

"Just be quick about it," she said through her tears. Jon went back to Theon's horse and took the rifle from the saddle holster. He walked back towards Sansa and the horse. She was still petting it and promising her that it was going to be all better real soon. She met his eyes and nodded. He didn't ask her to step away, he knew she won't.

The shotgun blast was deafening, far more terrible then all the thunder. Sansa let out a broken wail as soon as he fired. The rain was still falling, the wash would be impossible to cross if they waited much longer. The storm didn't appear to be letting up anytime soon and it would be a mistake to stay out in it.

"We need to go," Jon said. Sansa patted Lady one last time and stood up. Still crying, she followed Jon back to the other horse. He helped her up and then climbed up behind her. He guided the now reluctant horse across the wash and then wrapping his arms tightly around Sansa, he kicked the horse to a gallop.

They arrived at Winterfell shortly after. He left Sansa on the porch and led Theon's horse to the barn. He tied the horse in the stall and then ran back across the yard to the porch as the rain continued to hammer down.

When he rejoined her on the porch he found that Sansa had stopped crying. She stood, staring blank faced towards the barn, clearly in shock.

"Are you alright?" he asked looking her over to see if she had been hurt in the fall.

"My father gave me that horse. Lady, he gave me Lady." She was looking passed him, her eyes a bit unfocused now.

"Sansa –"

"My last birthday, before he died. She was my gift."

"Sansa," he said again trying to get her to focus on him. He noticed then the red hue now covering the side of her neck, nearly hidden beneath her hair. He reached up and into her hair, bringing his hand back and finding it covered in blood.

"Jon," she said, her voice a bit slurred now. Her head lolled and she looked up at him. "I loved that horse," was the last thing she said before she collapsed.

xxxxx

Sansa blinked her eyes open as bright sunlight spilled into her room. She groaned at the way it made her head pound. She felt disoriented, unsure for a moment how she had gotten here. And then the memories rushed back, the storm, being thrown from Lady, Jon looking at her before he'd aimed the gun. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. She knew that breaking down into sobs would do nothing to make her head feel better.

After she took a moment to calm herself and get her breathing under control, she became aware she was not alone in her bed. Jon lay on his side next to her. She looked down and realized his hand was placed protectively over her middle. She further realized she was in one of her nightgowns. She felt the blood rush to her face. She did not recall changing herself, which likely meant he had. The thought horrified her a bit.

She looked at him again. He was a bit dirty, smears of red dirt were on his cheek and forehead. His nails had what looked to be fresh dirt under them as well. He was in a set of clothes that did not appear to be his own. She figured he must've taken them from one of the laundry bags. She wondered who they might belong to.

"Jon?" she said in a soft croak. He stirred but did not wake. She said his name again, this time a bit louder and he stirred and then bolted up.

"Sansa! Are you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doze off," he apologized and looked down at her.

"I think I'm ok. My head hurts, and I'm thirsty, but I imagine I'll survive."

"Wait here," he said and got out of bed, returning with a glass of water.

He helped her sit up and she drank from it slowly. "Do you remember last night?" he asked when she was finished.

"Most of it from before we left Lady," her voice quivered a bit. "I don't remember much from after we crossed the wash. It's a bit blurry after that."

"Yeah you passed out shortly after we got back here. You hit your head when you were thrown. I got the bleeding to stop, took longer than I expected, but I don't think you were in true danger."

"Did Arya come home?"

"No, haven't seen or heard from her yet. I would gather the storm might've kept them in town or Sierra Vista for a bit longer."

"So….. Did you change my clothes?"

Blood rushed to Jon's cheeks and he looked down at the floor. "You were soaked to the bone. I did my best not to look, to preserve your honor, but yes, I put you in dry clothes." Sansa felt her cheeks flame. "I'm sorry, I just didn't see another option. I did it without lighting the lamp if that helps. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said softly. "What choice did you have?" He met her eyes for the briefest moment and then they both looked away. "We need to go bury Lady," she went on hoping to move them pass this awkwardness. "I can't bear the thought of the coyotes and vultures getting at her."

"It's already done. I did it at first light."

"You did?" She was blinking back tears now. It meant so much to her that he had thought of that and then done it for her unprompted.

"I did. I used Kraken to move her into the grave. The wash is still a bit high, so she's buried on the far side of it."

"Thank you," she said quietly and brushed away the few tears she'd been unable to stop.

"Are you worried about Arya?"

"No, not really. She's tough, plus she was with Gendry. I trust him to keep her from doing anything rash," she said with a soft brittle laugh. "She'll be home soon I imagine."

"I imagine so."

The light was still causing her head to pound and she felt tired again as she thought of Jon burying her horse, of Arya coming back across the desert. "Can you lay down with me again?" she asked softly.

"Are you sure you won't rather I get you something to eat?"

"No, not right now. In a minute maybe."

"Alright." He climbed in the bed and lay on his back. Sansa lay down on her side, placing her head on his shoulder and sliding tightly against him. He moved his arms and drew her nearer still. She sighed and burrowed her face little deeper into his neck. His warmth and scent instantly made her feel better.

"I'm sorry about Lady," he murmured as he carded his fingers through her hair.

"Me too," she breathed. She kept her next thoughts to herself though. She didn't want to upset the moment by telling him that she all she couldn't help but wonder is if her poor horse's sacrifice would be enough to keep the curse at bay for a little while longer.


	15. Chapter 15

Arya came home the afternoon following the storm. She and Gendry had stayed in Sierra Vista the previous night, waiting for the washes to drain some before heading home. She had been upset to learn of Lady's accident. She knew how much Sansa had adored that horse.

"As soon as I save up enough money I'm going to buy you a new horse. I won't even say anything if you decide to name her something sweet and frilly," Arya offered as she released Sansa from a hug.

Sansa gave her a slight smile. It was sweet of her sister to say, especially since Arya had made fun of her and called her a priss when she had named Lady. "Thanks, but perhaps this time I'll go with a stronger name," she had responded softly. It would be more fitting since she herself was no longer a soft sweet girl.

The following week was quiet, which Sansa was grateful for since she had a near constant headache till Wednesday. It lifted just in time for Jon to come by for Arya's shooting lesson on Thursday. The gunshots however made her think of what had happened to Lady, so she had asked them if they could please go out into the desert for target practice. Jon felt terrible he hadn't thought about the effect the sound might have on her, but Sansa had kissed him on the cheek and told him it was her issue to work pass and he had nothing to be sorry for. They had gone off as she asked and returned with two small sandhills which Sansa cooked for dinner.

Sunday had been a good day. They had gone to the river again and Sansa felt she was mostly back to her happier self. It had helped that Sam had actually made it all the way into the river this week. She and Jon had exchanged knowing smiles when Sam splashed Gilly and she had splashed him back and then tossed her soaked body into his arms in a playful attempt to dunk him.

That night Jon had just arrived back at Olenna's after seeing the Starks home. Sam was on cloud nine, recapping for Jon what had happened after he had left with the girls.

"And then she took my hand in the wagon, Jon. In front of all the other girls and Theon." Jon smiled at his excitement. "This might've been one of the best days of my life," Sam went on. "I still can't believe a girl like that is interested in a guy like me."

"I can. She's lucky to have you Sam."

Sam beamed at him and then they started to get ready for bed. They were just about to turn in when there was a knock at the door.

Jon opened it to find Olenna standing there. "Tormund's downstairs. Says he has important news."

They followed her downstairs and found Edd, Tormund and Grenn waiting. Edd and Grenn looked half asleep. Tormund was rocking on the balls of his feet. He seemed to be humming with quite a bit of energy for such a late hour.

"This better be important. It's rather late to be calling on my guests," Olenna said tartly.

"Oh it is… Sheriff's dead."

"What?!" went up the cry in the room.

"You heard me, he's dead."

"Oh my, oh my," Olenna said, her hand fluttering to her throat.

"I told you he was as good as dead, didn't I?" Tormund said to Jon and Sam specifically.

"But you only gave him a week," Sam responded.

"Samwell Tarly!" Olenna cried. "Have some respect for the dead."

"Sorry ma'am," Sam said and flushed.

"What happened?" Jon asked.

"Not rightly sure. They only have a head to go on."

"Excuse me?!" Olenna said looking rather alarmed and pale. Sam took her arm and led her to a nearby chair. She shook him off but took a seat anyways.

"Yeah, they found his head on one of the fence posts at the entrance of the graveyard. The Christian one behind the church. Had the word "cheater" carved into his forehead." Tormund gave Jon a knowing look.

"That's terrible. What a terrible story to hear right before bed," Olenna said. "This could've waited till morning." Tormund shrugged at her admonishment.

"Also wanted to let you know that Ol' Pete's calling for a town meeting tomorrow night to discuss the matter." Olenna nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow for lunch," he said to Sam and Jon. "I got other people to go notify," he finished before taking his leave.

They all stood there for a moment absorbing the news.

"I don't like this," Olenna said after a long silence. "I don't like this one bit. If a sheriff can be murdered like that right in his own town on the Sabbath, well it seems as if nothing is safe or sacred anymore."

xxxxxx

The following day Jon and Sam met Theon, Brienne and Tormund for lunch at Oathkeepers. As expected the topic of discussion was the sheriff's demise and the pending meeting.

"At the end of the day, this is mostly Petyr's fault. But you know ain't nobody gonna say it," Tormund said. Jon and Sam exchanged a look. Brienne shushed him.

"You need to be careful, even in here," she cautioned him as she glanced around.

Tormund nodded and lowered his voice. "You know I'm right. It's just like the last time."

"Last time?" Sam repeated.

"I thought you said Slynt was in Petyr's pocket?" Jon said quietly.

"He was," Tormund said. Sam was now looking around nervously. Jon just felt more confused.

"Remember what we told you before? About Petyr and the Lannisters?" Theon asked.

"You think Petyr had the sheriff killed?" Sam whispered.

"No, I think that was an unfortunate side effect of letting a Bolton man in to town," Brienne said.

"I don't understand," Sam said.

It took Jon a moment, but then he recalled the conversation from his first night in Copper Canyon and what Tormund had said the day of the street fight.

"You think he's somehow involved with the Boltons. You think he's bringing them in to do a shakedown?" Jon asked.

"It makes the most sense. Otherwise why would that man have been here?" Brienne asked. "There's been a lot of new businesses in the last couple years," she went on. "And none of them have been paying protection money. There's been no need. But now the sheriff is dead and an outlaw has been seen in town. I suspect Petyr will start with his pitch soon enough."

"Would you pay him for protection?" Jon asked.

"I don't care for the idea, but I'd rather pay than have him send in the Boltons to bust my place up."

"Well that doesn't seem right," Jon said.

"I agree, but what's right and fair don't much matter out here, now does it?" she countered.

xxxxx

Sansa had headed into town on Monday to pick up the laundry. She had started the day in such a bright mood. She had managed not to lose any further accounts the prior week, and had actually been able to pick up an order for new dresses for the girls at the Sunspear Saloon. Yesterday at the river seeing Sam and Gilly together had been a good reminder that life progressed, that people could be happy. It had helped her let go of most of the lingering sadness over Lady. And then there was the fact that she and Arya had just this morning discussed the possibility of trying to prospect the ridge for gold in a few weeks. It was one of the things she hoped to discuss with Jon today.

Sadly, her cheerful mood faded when she heard the horrible business about the murder of Sheriff Slynt. She wasn't sad for him. In fact, she'd never cared for the man. He'd become her father's deputy shortly after Jory Cassel had been gunned down by one of the Lannisters. And he'd conveniently been out of town the day her father died, ascending to sheriff on his return. She'd long suspected he might've been complicit in his death. So no, she wasn't sad to hear he had died, but the news of his death brought up bitter memories of her own father's murder.

Jon had found her when she had taken a moment alone to shed some tears behind Olenna's.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently as he swept her into his arms. She leaned into the embrace for a few moments and then drew back.

"It's nothing really," she answered wiping her eyes. She forced a smile on her face in hopes of making it true. "The news just rattled me some."

"I agree it's rather awful. I didn't realize you knew him that well."

"He was pa's deputy for a few months."

"Oh. So you were close?"

"Hardly. I don't think my father really cared for him. He never invite him over for dinner like he had done with Jory, his first deputy. After he died I was going through some of his papers and found some notes about how he suspected Slynt was on the take. Not saying Slynt deserved to die how he did, but the fact he had made himself real scarce in those final weeks before my pa was murdered, well I can't say I cared for him either." Thinking of Ned's death made her start to cry again. "God what is wrong with me?" she murmured trying to brush them away. "It's been years."

Jon said nothing, but he did step forward and take her in his arms again. She buried her face into his chest to hide her tears. She breathed in his scent and found it calming. She liked the way his beard felt on her temple. She felt herself calming down the longer he held her. Eventually she tipped her head up and kissed his neck. He shivered slightly at the unexpected contact and tightened his grip on her, one hand sliding tentatively down her back towards the curve of her bottom. She kissed him again, near his ear, which she knew drove him mad. He groan softly.

"Sansa dear," Olenna called as she stepped out the back of the house. They pulled apart as if they had been caught doing something horribly wrong. "My, my," Olenna said with a soft laugh. "It appears I have terrible timing. I do apologize. Just wanted to make sure you were alright since I saw the cart out front for so long. Clearly I had no reason to worry. Well carry on you two. Pretend I was never here." She disappeared back inside as soon as she finished.

Sansa looked at him and blushed. She noticed his cheeks had a little flush as well and it made her smile.

"So are you planning on coming back in for the meeting tonight?" he asked.

"Yes. You'll save us a seat right?"

"Of course."

"Alright. I should be going. I'm already running behind."

Jon gave her a devilish grin and she felt her heart rate increase. "Let 'em wait," he said and drew her in for a proper kiss.

xxxxxx

Sansa and Arya hitched the mule outside the livery and made their way over to the church. Tormund, Sam, Jon, Theon and Brienne all stood tightly together along the fence around the church. Theon and Brienne waved in greeting as the group separated a bit to allow them into it.

"I'm not sure why I let you talk me into coming to this horseshit meeting," Tormund was saying. "We all know it's pointless."

"It is not pointless. We're likely going to be electing a new sheriff," Brienne countered. "And as a citizen of this town, you have a duty to be present and vote." Tormund groaned. "At least you get a vote," she added through gritted teeth.

"I know, I know. You made your feelings on that known earlier… But that doesn't change the fact that this is all horseshit. I don't know why we have to waste an hour or more of our lives just so Ol' Pete can reassure everyone that he has this handled. Should we take a wager on how long into the meeting it'll be before he starts pressing everyone for money?"

"Will you shut your yap already?" Brienne snapped. "We all clearly know why we're here, and you flapping your jaw about it all damn day ain't making it better, faster or easier. So just stop your complaining."

Tormund looked properly cowed in that moment. He gave Brienne a curt nod and then wandered off to join another conversation. Brienne sighed in frustration. "He just doesn't understand how lucky he is to even get a say."

"You doing alright?" Jon asked Sansa quietly as Arya fell into conversation with Theon and Brienne.

"Yeah, much. Thank you," she answered and threaded her fingers into his.

"Alright, looks like everyone's starting to head in. Come on," Brienne said as the crowd began to move.

They pushed forward with the crowd and managed to get seats towards the middle of the church. It was evident that it was going to be a full meeting. In fact by the time everyone settled in, it was standing room only.

Petyr and Mayor Corbray sat up on the stage behind the pulpit. The mayor called the meeting to order and as was their custom, instantly turned it over to Petyr.

"Good evening all. I know you're all here because you have concerns over the death of our poor poor sheriff. But I want to assure you all that while it was an unfortunate thing, it's likely an isolated incident."

"And how do you know that?" someone called from the back.

"Well not to speak ill of the dead, but it wasn't exactly a secret that Janos had a weakness for cards." The crowd murmured in agreement. "What you may not know is that he scarcely could afford to lose, hence his need to… find creative ways to win. Based on what we know, it appears his death is very likely a result of him hustling the wrong person."

"I heard the man that murdered him rides with the Boltons. What are we supposed to do if the Boltons show up? We ain't got no sheriff," another person asked.

"First off, we have no idea who actually murdered the sheriff, Bolton man or otherwise. And I think it would be best that we don't start making unfounded claims. Secondly, we won't be without a sheriff after tonight. The main reason we called this meeting is so we can get a new one in place," Petyr answered. The crowd began to stir.

"Who'd want to be sheriff in this town?" someone murmured.

"Not me, the sheriffs in this town always ends up murdered," another person said from somewhere behind them. Arya turned and glared towards the back of the church.

"And who are you purposing be our next sheriff?" someone called out.

"Well I hadn't put much thought into just yet," Petyr answered glancing around the room. "Wanted to see what you all thought."

"Yeah right," Tormund muttered.

"But if y'all are looking for nominations, well then may I suggest Mr. Templeton," Petyr said pointing at a man in the front row. "He's been in my employ for several years now and I think he will do a fine job."

The crowd stirred again.

"Course he'd pick someone that would answer to him," Tormund whispered.

"Well what other options we got?" Theon whispered back.

"Might as well have no sheriff at all then," Tormund answered.

"Now I want to assure y'all that the Boltons likely pose very little risk to us. If they are in the area, well there are far richer towns than ours that would likely command their attention. But I do think that if we decide on Mr. Templeton, well he would be able to handle the threat should it arise."

"You mean after you pay the Boltons not to come 'round here," Tormund muttered. Brienne elbowed him in the side and glared at him.

"Shut up before he hears you," she hissed.

"So it's decided then?" someone off to the side asked.

"Well I don't see anyone else stepping up, do you?" Petyr asked gesturing to the room.

Sansa felt Jon move beside her and then he was standing. All eyes in the room fell on him as he cleared his throat. Sansa felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room.

"Well if y'all don't mind, I'd like to throw my hat in," Jon announced.

The sounds of excited murmuring swept across the room. She heard several mentions of the incident with the snake. Petyr stared at him hard and waited for the crowd to quiet.

"Mr. Snow, while that's admirable, you are still rather new here," Petyr said.

"All the better I would think. I can provide a fresh, fair perspective." She heard a few people murmur, the implication of his words were not lost on everyone.

"But as I understand it, you don't even have a permanent place here. You're still living in a boarding house," Petyr stated.

"What does that matter?" Jon asked.

"In my opinion, it could speak to your lack of commitment."

"I'm more than –" Jon began, glaring at Petyr.

"Do have any experience young man?" Mayor Corbray interrupted.

"Being a sheriff? No sir. But I've tossed a few rowdy drunks out of Oathkeepers." The crowd laughed. "All kidding aside though, I was in the army. I commanded men and protected settlements from hostiles. I think I've done enough to make me qualified to protect our town."

Sansa felt her heart racing. Why was he pursuing this? She wanted to tug on his belt and pull him back down. How could he possibly think this was a good idea? Why had he not told her about this before the meeting? Furthermore did he actually think Petyr would even allow such a thing?

"Be that as it may, we have no way of verifying that is the truth," the mayor countered.

"Jon's not a liar," Sam said sounding offended on Jon's behalf. Petyr's fixed Sam with a pointed look.

"And who are you to say?" Petyr asked.

"I served with him," Sam answered softly, clearly intimidated by Petyr's stare.

"Stand up and speak up," Petyr commanded. Sam stood and glanced at Jon who nodded encouragingly.

"I'm Samwell Tarly, sir. I'm training with Doc T. Before we came here, I fought alongside Jon in the army. He's telling the truth. He's a good leader. He'd probably make a fine sheriff."

Sansa could see Petyr's irritation growing. She knew he wanted his man installed in that position and he had no intention of allowing Jon to become sheriff.

"While I can appreciate your support of your friend here, you're still just another outsider, same as him."

"Brienne! He works for you, what do you say?" someone from the side called.

Brienne glanced at Sansa. Her expression was already begging for forgiveness. In that moment Sansa wanted to hate her friend for the way she was always honest to a fault. "It's true. Jon's been working for me since he arrived here. He's a fair and honest man. And we all know he's a crack shot."

"And your opinion on him being sheriff?" a voice called out.

"I'd have to agree he'd make a fine sheriff." Sansa turned away feeling betrayed. Why did she have to support this?

Petyr seemed to be scanning the crowd as the murmuring continued.

"Careful," Arya whispered in her ear.

"Tell him that," she hissed back.

"No, you. I can't imagine you want Petyr thinking about how much you love him right now." Sansa turned and gapped at Arya. "It's all over your face." Instinctively she flicked her eyes to the side and found Petyr was in fact watching her. His mouth was set in a hard line. She gave a weak smile. She wondered if she had fooled him at all.

"I'll vouch for him as well," Olenna was saying. "He's been a model boarder, a perfect gentleman, and he pays on time."

"Be that as it may -," Petyr began.

"I say we put it to a vote," Tormund called out. A wave of agreement followed.

Sansa turned to look fully at Petyr then. She could clearly tell he was furious, but she also knew he would not deny the people their vote. Part of what kept him in power here was the illusion that he was a humble man that was just trying to serve the interest of the people. It was the lie everyone in town agreed to in order to keep the peace.

"Alright then," he said holding up a hand. "We'll have ourselves a vote. All those for the fine Mr. Templeton." A cry when up from many in the room. "All those for Mr. Snow." Jon nodded as a louder assent went up. Sansa felt her heart seize. "Well then." Petyr was narrowing his eyes and staring hard at Jon. "Seems the people have spoken Mr. Snow. Job's yours if you really want it."

"I accept," Jon said with a humble nod.

The crowd cheered, but Sansa refused to join in. She felt as if someone was walking over her grave. Jon looked down at her and smiled proudly. She did not return it and she saw his brow furrow in confusion. She shook her head grimly and looked away. She inadvertently looked at Petyr. He was still looking at Jon, smiling, well smirking really, and there was a cold predatoriness to it that chilled her straight to the bone.

xxxxxxx

The meeting let out and it seemed like Sansa couldn't get away from him fast enough. He wasn't sure what he'd done to upset her so. He thought he was doing a good thing by stepping up to be the sheriff. He'd finally have the power to protect her, protect everyone, from Petyr. He wanted to chase after her and ask her what was wrong, but he found himself trapped by a throng of people that wished to congratulate him and wish him luck. All he could do was watch her from the stairs of the church as she practically dragged Arya to the livery.

"Well you've gone and done it now boy," Tormund said as he come up behind him.

"What?" he asked as he watched the Starks' cart head down the street.

"See I knew the good lord won't bless you with both brains and beauty. You really didn't see the way Petyr was looking at you at the end there? Like a coyote moving in for the kill?"

Jon whipped around and looked at him. "I'm not afraid of Petyr Baelish."

"Told you, only beauty." Jon glared at him for another moment and then headed down the stairs. It seemed Tormund had already forgotten he'd been the one to call for the vote. Jon shook his head and then proceeded out of the church yard.

Sam was waiting for him and fell into step alongside him as they headed towards the boarding house.

"Do you think that was wise?" Sam asked once they were further down the street and mostly alone.

"You're asking that now? You were the first one to back me up."

"I know, but only by accident. I didn't like him calling you a liar. But Theon was just telling me that Mr. Baelish will not be too happy with the choice, says he likes to have a say with the sheriff. I don't think you're too keen on that."

"No, no I won't be too keen on it."

"You're going to have to work on getting along with him, you know that right?"

"I know. You remember Sargent Rast don't you?"

"Course I do, he only ever called me Samantha."

"Well I see him and Baelish in the nearly the same way. They're bullies, but I did learn to get along with him eventually."

"You mean after you beat him up and almost got court-martialed for it? If Lieutenant Mormont hadn't - "

"Alright, alright. But I'd like to think I learned my lesson from that then. I can get along with Baelish." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "I can. As long as he respects that I'm the law and does his best to follow it, he'll have no quarrel from me."

"Even with everything he's done to the Starks? To Sansa?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Even then," Jon said through gritted teeth.

"I sure hope so. Because seems to me he's the last person you want to cross. Just ask Ned Stark."

xxxxxxx

Jon awoke the next morning and knew he needed to go talk to Sansa. He had to know why she was suddenly so upset with him, and there was no way he was waiting until Thursday when he'd go out for Arya's hunting lesson. He was grateful he had the time today as he doubted he'd have been able to focus on much else until this was resolved. He won't officially start as sheriff until the marshal's office sent someone out from Tucson to officially swear him in. He imagined it would likely be by the end of the week, Monday at the latest. The timing had worked out well since Pod was due back on the Friday stage.

He ate breakfast and cleaned himself up before heading to the livery to get a horse from Theon. When he arrived he was informed that as sheriff he was to be given a designated horse. Theon took him over to the corral.

"These ones just came in. Apache rounded them up and broken them. You can have your pick."

Jon surveyed the horses. Along the back of the corral stood an all-white horse. He was a bit smaller than the others but he turned his head, looked directly at Jon and with a swish of his tail started to come towards them.

"I want that white one."

"You sure that's wise? They say death is a pale rider."

"I don't believe in signs and omens. I want the white one. And for good measure I'm going to call him Ghost."

"Suit yourself," Theon laughed, shaking his head. He entered the corral, roped the horse and led him out towards the stable. He saddled him and then handed the reins to Jon. "He's all yours. Just bring him on back when you're done so we can feed him and give him a rub down."

"Thanks Theon."

Jon swung into the saddle and headed down Main Street. He passed several people that greeted him warmly. At the end of the street he eased the horse to a quicker pace and headed to Winterfell.

He arrived shortly before ten. Sansa was in the yard hanging laundry. He didn't see Arya. He slowed Ghost to a walk as he entered the yard. Sansa stood watching him but she said nothing. He stopped Ghost and dismounted. He removed his hat and waited for her to speak.

"Nice horse," Sansa finally said in greeting, her eyes fixed more on Ghost than him.

"I think so. I just got him. Perk of being the sheriff." Sansa blanched a bit and looked away. "I've named him Ghost."

"Seems like a fitting name," she said looking at the horse once more.

"Where's Arya?"

"She went out quail hunting with Lommy. Don't expect her back for some time. Why? You need her from something?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"That so? Now you want to discuss things?" She turned and went back to hanging up the wash.

Jon sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He hadn't been certain till now why she was so angry, though he had guessed it might've been that. He had hoped though that last night's rest would've calmed her some.

"Yeah, that is so," he said a moment later, unable to keep the frustrated edge out of his voice. She turned back towards him. Their eyes met for a moment and then she looked over at Ghost once more.

"You should get that horse in the shade, he looks a bit piqued. Go put him in the barn, I'll get him some water."

Jon nodded before leading Ghost into the barn and tying him into a stall. Sansa appeared shortly after and set a bucket of water in front of him. Ghost plunged his muzzle in and drank greedily.

"He's still getting used to being a work horse. Make sure you give him lots of water the first few weeks while he adjusts."

"Thanks." They stood side by side and watched Ghost continue to drink.

When the horse had finished, Sansa turned to him with a hard expression on her face. "Well you said you came to talk, so talk."

"I want you to tell me why you're so cross with me."

Sansa turned and looked at Ghost once more. "Who says I am?"

"Sansa," he said, his tone containing an edge of warning.

"Jon." Her voice had its own edge.

"Will you please look at me?"

Sansa turned her gaze on him. Her eyes were normally the calm blue of the summer sky, but right now they were dark, as if a storm was building in. He could see the hurt and anger. It stole his breath some. She held his gaze defiantly and waited.

"Tell me what I've done wrong," he said nearly pleading.

Her tough expression broke some. "Perhaps it's too far to call it wrong," she sighed.

"I don't understand. What's this all about then?" He reached out and tried to take her hand. She pulled away and took a step back.

"Please don't." Jon felt even more confused. He couldn't imagine why she won't want him to comfort her.

"I don't understand." He stepped closer and grabbed her hand again. She went to pull away again. "Stop that," he ordered. She froze and looked at him, the last of her hard expression fell away. "Just tell me what's going on," he said firmly.

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you say you wanted to be sheriff?" she cried and pushed him back.

"I thought –" Jon began, stunned by her actions.

"If you had asked me, I would've told you not to." She was breathing angrily now, clearly trying not to cry.

"I didn't go in there planning on it. But when I saw that dog and pony show Petyr was running, I just couldn't allow it. I thought if I was the sheriff it'd be better for everyone." Sansa choked back a sob. He stepped towards her and was relieved when she didn't pull away. "I thought it would help me protect you," he said gently as his other hand came up to caress her cheek.

"You're such a fool." Her voice was thick with gathering tears.

"Maybe I'm idealistic, but I hardly think I'm a fool." They stood, their gazes locked. He moved his hand from her cheek to the wall next to her head and leaned forward to kiss her.

"You should resign," she breathed against his lips. Jon stopped and drew back slightly. "Say you changed your mind," she said, her voice now stronger. "And then you should pack up and go."

"What?" he asked drawing back in shock. "Why would I do that? I thought you wanted me here."

"Not anymore I don't." She wrenched her hand free of his then and stepped to the side so that she was no longer between him and the wall.

"Sansa," he said as he grabbed her arm.

"Don't," she said, shaking him off. "Just go Jon. Just go and don't look back."

"It's not that easy. You know it's not that easy."

"Why not? You have no real ties here, just go while you still can."

"I have no ties here?!" She might as well have slapped him. She won't meet his eyes. "How can you say that? I'm completely tied here. I'm tied to you, to Arya, to Brienne, to Theon, to so many other people. You know that. How could you say otherwise?"

"We aren't your responsibility," she said, tears slowly starting to slide down her cheeks. "Whatever debt you think you owe Robb, it's paid."

"You know I'm not staying because of some debt to Robb! I'm staying 'cause I care about you. I care about a lot of people in this town. This to be my home now. That's why I stepped up. I want to make this a safe place for everyone to call home."

"I told you once not to do anything stupid. I told you, you can't be so noble. This is not a place to be noble." His hands went back to her cheeks then, wiping away her tears. He tipped her chin up until she met his gaze.

"Well I guess sometimes love makes you do stupid things."

She inhaled sharply and her eyes went wide. "Did you just say…." she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. I think -, no, I'm certain…. Sansa, I'm in love with you."

"Jon." She started to sob then. He took her in his arms and held her. He tried to soothe her.

"I'm sorry. I – I didn't imagine the first time I told you that, that it would go quite like this," he said after a couple minutes.

She let out a sharp laugh and pulled away, wiping her cheeks.

"Me either. But it doesn't change anything. It's not safe for you to stay here."

"Why? Please tell me why you keep saying that. Did someone say something?"

"No….. but I love you too," she said with a faint sad smile. He smiled back as hers faded. "And Petyr will want you dead for it. He'll see to it the same way he saw to my father's death. I can't let that happen. I can't have this town and this blasted curse take one more person I love from me. I simply cannot – I cannot bear it."

"That's not going to happen. For one I don't believe in curses, and two, I won't allow it."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, her eyes searching him desperately.

"I just am," he said holding her gaze. "Do you believe me?"

She was still looking into his eyes, their faces just a few inches apart. He willed her to see his conviction, to share in it. After a minute or two she finally gave him a slight nod. He leaned in and kissed her then. It was soft at first, but it quickly deepened. She pulled him to her. He stumbled forward and she was suddenly pinned between him and the wall of the barn. He kissed her harder and she gasped ever so slightly into his mouth.

Her hand found their way into his hair and she was tugging at him, pulling his mouth harder against hers. One hand was on her lower back pulling her to him and the other slowly found its way to her breast. She moaned and ground her hips against him.

"Promise me you'll be safe. Promise me you won't leave me, you won't die," she pleaded in between kisses.

"I promise you I'll do my best to be safe. I promise I'll do my best to stay alive," he answered back, changing the words just slightly. He refused to make her a promise he couldn't guarantee.

They went back to kissing again. He was growing hard now, and he was certain Sansa could feel it too. She mewed and rubbed against him. On instinct he pulled one of her legs up to wrap around his hip and ground himself into her harder. She gasped and tried to lift her other leg. Jon caught it and wrapped it around him, pushing her back into the wall for further support. Sansa was panting raggedly as she clung to him. He wanted her in this moment more than he had ever wanted anything else. He wanted to pour his conviction into her, to show her that he loved her, that he belonged to her and not even the threat of harm could change that.

Sansa started to fumble with the buttons of his shirt as he ran one hand up her leg. "I love you," she breathed.

"I love you," he answered back. He moved his hand higher, underneath the edge of her bloomers. When he reached the top of her thigh he moved his hand down and cupped her bottom. His fingers skimming the edge of her sex. He had never touched her like this before. The feeling almost made him whimper. One of his fingers moved towards her center and dipped slightly inside.

"Jon," she gasped. She sounded almost alarmed. Her hands had come to a stop on his chest.

"Sansa," he breathed. He pulled away slightly and looked at her. Her pupils were blown wide, but he saw her nerves. He could feel her trembling ever so slightly.

"We don't have to," he told her. His voice was scratchy and low. He withdrew his hand and held her back as she lowered her legs back to the ground.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you stop…. I just…. You've never touched me like that. I – I didn't know what to do," she said stumbling over her words as her cheeks started to flush a deep crimson. She couldn't believe she had reacted like that. It had felt good, but she'd been so surprised. He clearly knew what to do more than she did. "Are you still going to want me?" she asked, the self-doubt getting the better of her.

He chuckled. "Of course I still want you," he said touching her cheek tenderly. "But I want you to feel the same. I want you to feel ready."

"I – I do. I do want you I mean. I'm just… I'm nervous is all." He believed her, but he had decided today shouldn't be the day. He didn't want to take advantage of all the raw emotions that had just passed between them.

"It can wait."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes." She appeared to still doubt him. "What kinda man would I be if I didn't try to protect your virtue?" he asked as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

She exhaled and then kissed him softly on the mouth. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry to make you wait."

"Don't be sorry. I'll wait for you forever if I have to."


	16. Chapter 16

After church on Sunday, they gathered with everyone at the town pavilion for a picnic. It was the first one to be held since the day Jon had shot the snake back in May. It was still rather hot out, but Olenna's had insisted such an event was the proper thing to do.

"People should be given the chance to congratulate their new sheriff in a relaxed setting. You want to seem approachable, don't you?" Olenna stated when Sansa voiced resistance to the idea. The last things she wanted was for it to appear as if they were throwing his election in Petyr's face, why add insult to his already perceived injury?

"Wait, am I not approachable now?" Jon asked confused.

"I don't mean to say you're NOT approachable, though sometimes you can look rather serious and morose," Olenna said. "What I'm trying to say is these are the people who elected you. You owe them a chance to celebrate that…. and bend your ear a bit should they wish."

"She has a point. I am sorta their servant now," Jon said turning to Sansa. "I have a duty to make myself available."

"But –" Sansa began.

"It would send a rather clear message to everyone," Olenna said.

"But I don't want him sending messages," Sansa countered.

Jon took her hand and kissed it. "But perhaps I do."

She had eventually given in, agreeing with him and Olenna that this luncheon was necessary to set the tone for his term. She had hoped it would remain small, but word seemed to have spread quickly in the last thirty-six hours. There were far more people present than she had anticipated.

"Seems folks were far more curious about him than even I thought," Olenna said as she, Sansa and Margaery finished arranging food on the main table. "I do hope we don't run short on food."

"I'm sure we have plenty," Marge said as Gilly appeared with two more bowls of bean salad.

Sansa hoped she was right, she hadn't loved the idea of this party, but the hostess in her would be horrified if they ran short. She looked around at the crowd as she finished removing the final lids. She still couldn't believe so many people had come, especially the folks that didn't normally attend church services. Petyr was noticeably absent though. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved by that or worried, because despite her thoughts about him, his opinion still mattered to what she considered to be a majority of the people in this town.

She was so deep in thought on the matter that she startled when Tormund rang the bell and bellowed that lunch was served.

She kept herself busy for a while, smiling and serving everyone that came through the lunch line. She was thankful she had something to keep her busy. Especially since Jon was in such high demand. In fact, she'd barely been able to speak to him since this whole thing had started.

Once everyone had been served, Sansa, Marge and Gilly had made up their own plates, quickly eating together in the corner of the pavilion before running over to High Garden to bring back the desserts.

Once the desserts were sliced and laid out, Sansa wandered off to take a break. She sat alone at a table on the edge of the pavilion watching the crowd. Everyone seemed happy, lingering on to laugh and converse despite the heat. Her eyes met Jon's, who was in the middle of a conversation with several men. He smiled warmly and mouthed "I love you." She mouthed it back and then looked away as he went back to his conversation. Her smile faded as she looked out towards the church, again trying to convince herself that she shouldn't be so worried.

"Curses aren't real," she told herself. "He's brave and smart. He believes he'll be alright, that he can do this. You should believe it too." She had been telling herself these same things for the last several days. She still had yet to wholly believe them.

"You could stand to smile a bit more. This is a party after all," Marge said as she took a seat next to her.

"Do I really look that glum?"

"You look worried."

"How can I not be? A man I love is sheriff once more."

"This isn't the same."

"How you figure? The danger's still the same."

"But Jon's not your pa."

"Well I certainly hope not," Sansa retorted just a bit too quickly.

Margery laughed and then tilted her head. A smirk immediately forming on her lips. "Well, well. Do tell." At that Sansa couldn't stop the blush that was spreading into her cheeks.

"Don't you well, well me. It was a meant as a joke," Sansa said feeling the blush creeping down her neck as well.

"Your flushed cheeks tell me something different." Marge brushed Sansa's hair aside and leaned in so she could whisper in her ear. "I have to know, how was he?"

"Margery," Sansa hissed, her chest and cheeks now completely aflame. "It's not like that."

"There's no reason to be shy about it, at least not with me." Sansa swatted her away and Marge laughed once more before growing serious. "So he's the one then?" Sansa nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Good. He's a good man, and you deserve that. You deserve to be happy. I just hope he treats you right….. in every way possible way," she finished with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"WHEN that time comes, I am certain he will treat me very well, thank you," she answered curtly, blushing once more.

"Virgins," Margaery sighed with an eye-roll and a smile. "Well good. And in the meantime, try not to worry. He's a smart man, I'm sure he'll make the right decisions to keep himself alive."

"It's not his decisions that I'm worried about per say."

Margery nodded knowingly. And then Sansa realized she was looking over her shoulder. She turned to see what had caught her attention. "Speak of the devil," Marge murmured as Sansa's saw Petyr, flanked by a couple of his men, approaching the party.

They watched as he made his way towards Jon. Sansa took a deep breath. She hoped Jon was ready for his first test.

xxxxxx

"Sheriff Snow," Petyr's smooth voice floated over his shoulder. "I've come by to pay my respects."

Jon turned from the conversation he had been having with Doc T and Mr. Luwin. "Thank you, Mr. Baelish." Jon noted he didn't apologize for being late, nor did he say congratulations like most other folks had, but he extended his hand all the same. Petyr looked at it for a moment before he took it and gave it a quick shake.

"Seems the town's really turned out for you," Petyr observed as he surveyed the party.

"Appears so. Sorry to tell you missed all the food, though I might still be able to find you some pie."

"That won't be necessary."

They stood without speaking for several moments. "You know," Petyr began, breaking the silence. "You and I have never really had much of an occasional to talk until now." Jon knew what he likely meant was, "I had no use for you previously and I had honestly hoped you'd have gone away by now."

"Well, it's been a pleasure as always Jon," Doc T said suddenly. Jon had almost forgotten the other two men were still there with them.

"Yes, thank you both for your time," Jon said shaking both of the older men's hands. They took their leave and Jon now stood alone with Petyr and his men. He could feel nearly every eye at the party side eyeing the two of them.

"What I was trying to say was perhaps we could have a word now," Petyr said. "Away from here."

Jon wanted to tell Petyr he was rather rude to show up here late as he was, to then ask him to leave, but Sam and Sansa had both been in his ear the last few days. They had both impressed him on, each in their own way, how imperative it was for him to make every attempt to get along with Baelish.

"Alright, lead the way," Jon said.

They walked away from the pavilion in the direction of the church yard, Petyr's men trailed a few feet behind. They stopped when they reached the shade of the building. It was far enough away that no one would be able to hear their conversation. They were still in sight of the pavilion, but the view was more than partially obstructed by the branches of several mesquite trees.

"So, what is it you wanted to discuss?" Jon asked. He had turned so his back was no longer to Petyr's men.

"I've gotten the impression you don't care much for me," Petyr began. Jon could hear Sam in his head once more and did his best to keep his expression neutral.

"Based on the things that I'm told you've said to Sansa with regards to me, well I don't think you care much for me either," Jon countered. Petyr did not appear bothered by his comment, instead he gave the slightest hint of a cold smile.

"I did share some concerns with her after you basically refused my invitation to drink in my bar. You must understand how it appeared from my perspective. You were a stranger who claimed to know her beloved brother, your motives were unknown and you refused to allow me anytime to get to know them. You took the first job offered to you and had no interest in procuring a piece of land. I was just trying to protect her. Who was to say you even planned to stay here?"

"And yet here I am."

"And yet here you are. And now you're the sheriff to boot." Jon didn't smile and just continued to look at Petyr. "I'm willing to acknowledge that we did not get off on the best foot. I think you can agree we both played a part in that."

"I suppose," Jon conceded. He didn't truly agree, but he decided he'd let Petyr have a small victory.

"Given your new position, I would think it's best for the town that we learn to get along going forward."

"Of course," Jon said. "For the town."

"Splendid. I'm glad we're both so agreeable now," Petyr said. Jon couldn't help but sigh at Petyr's false eagerness. "Now I'd like to ask you some questions."

"Alright."

"What are your immediate plans for the town?" Petyr asked.

"I can't say I have immediate plans for the town, but I do plan to investigate Slynt's murder."

"Which I imagine will be difficult without a body or witnesses."

"Yes, that will pose some difficulty," Jon agreed.

"But other than that, what else are you planning?"

"I'm not currently planning anything, right now I mostly want to focus on getting my feet under me. I'll probably look for deputy soon though. Is there something specific you're concerned about?"

Petyr regarded him. Jon knew he was probably taking him a bit by surprise by how polite he was forcing himself to be despite Petyr's obvious attempts to annoy him.

"I'm not concerned. But as one of the leaders in this town, I like to make sure I am kept well informed. I do hope you plan on keeping me in your confidences moving forward."

"If there are matters that concern the town at large, yes I'll do my best to keep the citizens informed."

"That's good to hear," Petyr said, his voice full of false enthusiasm. He paused and seemed to be contemplating his next words. "I have been wondering though, what compelled you to seek out this position?"

"I enjoy helping people, making them feel safe. I like it when the good guy wins and justice is served. This seemed like a great opportunity to help make all those things happen."

"Then I was correct when I pegged you as an idealist. I must say I have concerns on how such a disposition will serve you in this position. You might not think it since you've only been here a short time and up until now its been rather peaceful, but this place can be dangerous. A strong steady hand will be required to keep order."

Jon felt his jaw tick the slightest but stopped himself from taking the bait. "I'm far from an idealist. I saw a lot of things during my time in the army that have seen to that. I'm more than confident I can keep order here. The first person to break the law under my term will quickly come to understand that."

"I imagine we'll find out soon enough."

Jon had had enough of their false pleasantries. "Are we done here?"

"Almost. I think there is another more personal matter we need to fully discuss." And there is was. This was the real reason he was here. Sansa had warned him it would only be a matter of time given the way she had reacted in the meeting earlier this week.

"And that is?" Jon asked already knowing the answer.

"Sansa." Jon hated the way her pretty name sounded in Petyr's mouth. He had to stop himself from grimacing at it.

Jon took a deep breath, he was in no mood to deal with Petyr's attempts to scare him off. "What about her?"

"I assume by now you know of my history, my connection, to the Starks."

"Oh yes, I've heard quite a bit about what you've done to the Starks." Petyr's eyes flashed with anger and annoyance for a split second before he forced a tight smile.

"Well given all their hardships, I can imagine you understand why I'm rather protective of the girls." Jon said nothing, he was waiting for Petyr to get to the point. "I'd like to ask what your intentions are towards Sansa."

"My intentions." He made sure to say it as a statement. He wanted Petyr to feel the implication towards him.

"Yes. As their guardian, I have a right to know."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, but as far as I am aware you aren't actually their guardian, and you're not their pa either."

"Yes, well I might not have legal standing, but I still maintain a moral one. I care very deeply for Sansa," Petyr responded. Jon couldn't help but sneer a bit. "And Arya, of course," he added.

"Well you have my assurances that I have no intentions of harming or dishonoring Sansa."

"While that's good to hear, it doesn't actually answer my original question."

"I mean no offense Mr. Baelish, but I would think that's between me and her."

"Perhaps because you were raised in an orphanage, you don't quite understand the proper protocol of things such as these."

The insult stung hard. He had half a mind to punch Petyr square in the face, but he knew that was likely what he was hoping for. "And what exactly do you consider proper protocol?" Jon asked between clenched teeth.

"That you would come talk to me, ask for my blessing as such, before this infatuation progresses into anything more serious."

Infatuation, Jon scoffed to himself, if only he knew. "And would you bless such a request?"

"I can't answer that currently. It would depend on several things, including the timing of such a request."

"I see."

"Do you? Because I think you are failing to see how young she still is. Why, she's not even twenty. Do you understand how important it is for you to have a permanent home and steady income before you try to…... You would need to be settled and show an ability to provide for her, for Arya as well. It's a lot of responsibility. And in my opinion you are rather young yourself, and still rather unsettled. You might very well decide that being sheriff is not for you, that this town is not for you. I would just hate to see you get yourself into a situation that you were not ready for."

"I think I'm the best person to know if I'm ready or not." He was done trying to be pleasant, his voice now had a caustic edge.

"I'm just trying to help you," Petyr said with a smirk. "I run a brothel after all, so I certainly understand how the scent of pussy can cloud a man's judgement."

Jon lunged at him but was unable to land the punch as one of Petyr's men was already on him, restraining him. Petyr smirked. "Now do you really want all these people to know they've just elected a hot head for a sheriff?"

Jon glanced at the pavilion, no one was paying attention to them at the moment, but Jon knew it would only take a simple shout to change that fact.

"No, I would not," he answered between gritted teeth. In response, Petyr tossed his head and the man that was holding him released him.

"Well I'm glad we both know where we stand going forward. Do enjoy the rest of your party Sheriff." Then he turned to his men. "Gentlemen." And with that they proceeded to walk away.

Jon watched them go, glaring at their retreating forms. He stayed, working to calm himself before he went back to the party. A couple minutes later Sansa appeared by his side. "What did he want to talk to you about?"

"Just paying his respects, making sure we understand each other on several matters." He saw no point in upsetting her with Petyr's words, especially since he had no intention of heeding them.

"And what matters are those?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing to concern yourself with today." She looked like she planned to probe further. "Come on," he said and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Let's go see if there's any more that of that lemon cake left." And with that he led her back towards the pavilion.


	17. Chapter 17

It was late in the afternoon when Sansa headed to town the following Friday. She planned to make her rounds and then meet Margaery for dinner.

She pulled on to Main Street from a side alley when she noticed that the stagecoach was just departing. She checked the time, it was still too early to meet Margaery and since she had made her last delivery, other than the one to High Garden, she decided to check in with the post office. She had ordered some lace and patterns from Montgomery Wards a few weeks back, perhaps they had arrived she thought.

She waited in line and when it was her turn the post master told her there were no packages, but he did have a letter for her. She felt perplexed as he handed her the envelope, and then she saw the return address was from Chicago.

She went out on to the sidewalk and with shaking hands opened the envelope. She glanced at the contents and felt tears pricking at her eyes. She quickly swiped them away and took a deep breath. She'd given up hope that this check would ever actually arrive. She looked at it again to make sure it was real and then she pressed it to her chest and thought of Robb. There was no stopping the tears now. She quickly moved down the sidewalk and into a small alley. She made her way to the back where no one would likely see her. She wanted a few moments alone to try and collect herself. She leaned against the wall and tipped her face towards the sky in an attempt to stop the tears.

It didn't help. Her knees quickly gave way and she slid down the wall. She sat on the ground then, back to the wall and buried her face in her knees, surrendering to the tears. She bit her hand to keep the sobs from drawing attention. She sat for a long time thinking of her brother, her first friend, her protector. It wasn't lost on her that somehow even in death, he was managing to provide for her.

Her mind drifted to the shop she had so longed for. A proper tailor space with the laundry out back. She had the money to make that a reality now. Could it be that things might actually be turning in their favor? Maybe, just maybe the curse was starting to let them go.

Thunder rumbled overhead and she looked up. The sky had darkened quickly, the wind suddenly kicking up. The air didn't feel humid enough for rain, it was likely going to be a dust storm. She glanced at her watch and realized she still had a few minutes in which she could make it to the bank. She stood up and carefully tucked the check into her pocket. She wiped her face and smoothed her hair before leaving the alley.

As soon as she stepped on to Main Street she wondered why she had bothered. The wind was wicked here, racing down the tunnel created by the buildings. She placed her hand over her pocket, her fear of somehow losing the check suddenly becoming overwhelming. She hurried down the street, aided by the wind and entered the bank five minutes before close.

The banker seemed surprise to see her with a check for such an amount, but he had deposited it without question. With the check safely deposited into her account, she felt a weight lift from her chest. It didn't matter that the wind was whipping outside, that the thunder and lightning was cracking overhead, to her it felt like New Year's Day, when the sun shined, the birds sang and everything felt full of hope and promise.

She left the bank and hurried down the street to High Garden. The wind swept her inside and Marge looked up from the bar with wide eyes as a crack of thunder shook the building and the liquor bottles gave a soft tinkle as they vibrated against each other.

"Damn that was close! Lord do you look a fright!" Marge said coming around the bar.

"Can we go dancing tonight? I feel like dancing."

"You're in quite the mood. And to what do we owe this? Wait did you and…." Marge asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No! God not every good mood is because someone had…" Sansa said. "You know."

"Alright fine. If it's not that, then what is it?"

Sansa wondered for a brief moment how Marge would react to her news. She knew she'd be happy for her to have the money, but she still wondered how much the reminder of Robb's death might pain her. "The check came from the mine," Sansa said softly holding her friend's gaze.

Marge paused for a moment and Sansa saw her take a breath and then let it out before a smile crossed her face. Sansa saw the smile make it to her eyes and then she let out her own deep breath. "That's good. That's great. In fact, we should drink to that," she said going behind the bar and pouring two shots.

Sansa joined her at the bar and lifted her glass. Outside the wind howled and the thunder crashed loudly once more.

"To dry lighting and storms that'll pass," Marge began. "And to knowing you'll never have to be beholden to Petyr Baelish ever again," she finished quietly.

Thunder shook the bottles once again. "To Robb," Sansa added. Marge nodded and then the girls clicked their glasses and downed their shots.

"So, do you want to eat here or brave the storm and go to Hobbs?" Marge asked putting the glasses under the bar.

"It's mostly just wind. Let's go out."

"Alright then."

The doors swung open then, admitting Jon. He looked shaken, his eyes a bit wild. "Oh thank god you're here," he said crossing to the bar and pulling Sansa against him. "Is Arya with you?" he asked as he released her.

"No, she went out hunting earlier. I would expect she'd have headed home given the storm though. Wait, why?" she said feeling a sense of panic rising from within. Her fright was reflected back in his eyes. "Jon. Why?"

"Because there was a lightning strike close by, not too far from town. I think – I think-"

Sansa pushed off him and ran out of the saloon and into the middle of Main Street. She looked towards home, her brain was not processing things fast enough. She blinked several times, forcing her eyes to focus against the dust whirling in the air, praying she was just seeing a trick of the light within the dust storm. But there was no mistaking the plume of dark smoke blowing and twisting against the horizon. She knew the truth in the depth of her soul. Winterfell was on fire.

There had been no stopping her once the realization swept over her. Despite the lightning, and thunder continuing to snap and boom overhead, she had taken off into the wind. She knew the mule and the cart would not be fast enough, so she went directly to the livery and took a horse. Jon had chased after her, telling her to wait for him to get help. She had snapped at him that there was nothing anyone could do to help. She knew there would be no saving the structures at this point; there was no reason to bother ringing the fire alarm or seeking assistance. She just needed to get home, she needed to know if her sister was dead or alive. She had told him as much as she had raced out of the stables. Moments later he and Ghost emerged from it as well, chasing her towards Winterfell.

She ran her horse hard, covering the distance to Winterfell in even less time than when Arya had been caught in the rockslide. She kept thinking of the curse, alternating between praying and begging. Jon kept shouting it would be alright until she had yelled at him that he had no way of knowing that. He had been silent since then. She was thankful for that, because really what was there to say until she found Arya? Even from a distance she could tell it was a large wide spread fire. She knew that very likely meant the house and the barn were both burning.

She was breathing nearly as hard as her horse when they cleared the final tree line and the real devastation came into focus. The barn and house were indeed both completely engulfed. The only thing that kept her from becoming hysterical was the dark silhouette of a person and a dog out in front of it. She glanced at the burning house and wanted to weep, however she decided it was best to use all of her energy on reaching the figure standing back from the blaze. She knew logically it was Arya with Nymeria at her side, but she refused to truly believe it until she was close enough to see her actual face.

The wind died abruptly as they entered the yard. She dismounted and went to Arya's side. The urge to vomit receded some as she finally accepted that Arya was in fact alive.

"Are you alright?" Sansa asked as she moved next to her and took in her ash covered face and clothing.

Arya nodded, her eyes never leaving the fire. Nymeria whined a bit as she bumped up against her. It was almost if the dog needed the same reassurance Sansa had. Jon had dismounted Ghost and stood back near the horses watching the fire as well.

"Were you here when it started?" Sansa asked as she slipped her arm around Arya's shoulder and drawing her into her.

Arya encircled Sansa's waist and nodded. Sansa wanted to ask any further questions but decided to wait. They stood watching together as the roof collapsed in on the barn, sending a shower of sparks up into the sky. They stood watching until the walls of both structures fell in. It was then Sansa finally started to look around. Her eyes fell on a pile of things up against the fence behind them. She released Arya and drifted back towards the pile.

She surveyed the items in the pile as Jon wandered over to her side. He said nothing as he put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him as she continued to stare at the pile. It included her father's holster and pistols, the box of family pictures, her mother's recipe book and a small assortment of clothes.

"Arya?" she choked out, the tears now trying their best to work their way out. "Did you save all of this?"

Arya finally stopped watching the fire and came to stand next to her.

"I did. I had come home just before the storm started. Lighting hit the scrub out back and then the wind whipped the flames into the side of the house. I grabbed as much as I could before the fire got too big and ran out. Nymeria got pretty angry when I went back in though," she said gesturing to a rip at the bottom of her shirt.

"Why did you go back in?" Sansa asked.

"I had to go back in for these," she answered as she put her hand in her pocket. She pulled it out and showed Sansa her parents' wedding bands.

"Arya," Sansa said as she started to cry in earnest. Arya wasn't known as the sentimental one, and yet she had grabbed all the items that held the most sentiment. She moved away from Jon and embraced her sister. Arya hugged her back just as tightly.

"So what are we going to do now?" Arya asked as they broke apart.

"I think Olenna has some rooms open," Jon offered.

"That's a start, at least for tonight," Sansa agreed. She turned back to Arya. "The check came."

"The check from the mine?" Arya asked.

"Yeah. This afternoon in fact. I put it in the bank just as the storm started up."

Arya gave her a weak smile and her gaze shifted to a tin type of Robb laying on the ground, it appeared to have fallen out of the picture box. "It's ironic isn't it?" Arya said picking it up. Sansa furrowed her brow in confusion. Arya met her gaze. "The curse giveth and the curse taketh away."

xxxxxxx

They took the things Arya had saved and headed back to town. Olenna was already aware of the situation when they arrived. She told them she already had a room made up. Sansa asked Jon to go let Margaery know that Arya was alright but that the house had burned. She would have done it herself, but she didn't want to be out on the streets now. She didn't want the stares and whispers, and most importantly she didn't want to give Petyr the opportunity to approach her and try to offer his "assistance." She made Olenna promise that if anyone came looking for them she would say they had already gone to sleep. She knew they'd have to deal with the fallout tomorrow, but she wanted tonight for just her and Arya.

It was the middle of the night and despite both being exhausted, they were still awake. They had spent hours reminiscing quietly before the conversation had turned to what they should do.

"We could use the mine money to start rebuilding now," Sansa suggested. "I imagine someone could put us up in the meantime…. Or we could live in a tent out there?"

"Let's be honest, you don't want to live in a tent," Arya said. Sansa shrugged in agreement. "And what about your shop? We had already agreed that money was to assist with the mortgage as needed and for your shop."

"I know, but that was before Winterfell burned."

"If we sink all the money into rebuilding now, we're going to be in almost the same position we were before we got the check."

"Not necessarily."

"I say you go forward with the shop in that location you've been looking at. We could live above it even."

"Are you sure? I mean I can't imagine us not being out at Winterfell, especially you," Sansa said. She would never had expected this from Arya.

"Yes." Arya was quiet for a moment and then she rolled over in bed and looked at Sansa. "Honestly, maybe this is all for the best really."

"What? I can't believe you of all people would be saying that. You loved that place far more than I ever did."

"I know. Don't think I've forgotten the way you begged ma and pa to send you back to Nevada or even back east to grandpa when we first arrived."

"I was a bratty child, and that was before it had become our home."

"I know. But I can't help hoping that maybe this fire will finally cleanse the place."

"Cleanse it?" Sansa asked confused.

"Yeah. I mean look at everything that happened there. Pa and Robb put their blood and sweat into building the place. And then Ma died in that house. Maybe all that blood needed to be burned away. Maybe this is what's needed to finally end the curse."

Sansa mulled her sister's words over. Was that possible? Could this terrible loss actually be a good thing for them? It was a devastating loss for sure, and yet the arrival of that check meant they weren't desperate or hopeless.

"Have you ever want to leave here?" The question was out of Sansa's mouth before she even realized it. Arya sat up and looked at her.

"You said earlier tonight that you are determined to rebuild," Arya said perplexed.

"I am." Arya didn't look convinced. "We will. But have you ever thought we should leave, try starting over some place new? Maybe THAT is the only way we will be able to break the curse. We could go where no one knows us, where no one knows about our past or the blasted curse."

"I've never thought it would work that way. It's been hard here yes, but this is still our home."

"Our home could be wherever we're together and safe."

"And what about everyone here? Our friends? They're our family too, especially after everyone else's gone. What about Brienne or Micah or Lommy? What about Gendry?" Arya asked growing agitated. "What about Jon?"

"I – he –"

"You might think it'd be better to go somewhere clear of the gossip, of Petyr, but that also means we'd be clear of anyone that loves us, anyone that has our backs and gives a damn about us. We'd be completely alone."

Sansa let her words sink in. "You're right. You're totally right. I'm sorry," Sansa admitted moments later.

"Nothing to be sorry for. I get it. But I this is our home. This is where we belong. Plus, Jon's sheriff now. Petyr's losing power, things are going to get better here."

"Ok, ok. You've convinced me," Sansa said with a soft laugh.

"You'll see. You'll get a happy ending here. I can feel it," Arya said giving her a reassuring smile followed by a yawn.

Perhaps Arya was right, perhaps the fire would burn away the curse once and for all. Sansa found she wanted to believe her sister and so for tonight, she decided she would.


	18. Chapter 18

Monday morning Sansa found herself pacing the sidewalk while waiting for the bank to open. It's not as if she feared someone would buy the shop out from under her, but she knew she would feel much more settled once the transaction was completed. If the transaction could be completed. She was a woman after all, there was a chance they might refuse to sell to her based on that alone. Which was why Jon was here. Her intent was to purchase the place on her own, but if the bank baulked at selling to a woman then Jon was here to act either as the purchaser or a co-signer. She had felt strange asking him for such a favor given their relationship. She had worried that he might see it as if she was purposing marriage. Which in some ways was not far off, because if this did come to pass they would be linking their financial futures. However if Jon had thought anything similar he had not let on. In fact, he had easily agreed to her request without asking more than a couple questions. It almost made her nervous how easily she trusted him, almost.

"Hey, it's going to be fine," he said stepping into her path and placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing. "One way or another you're going to leave here with keys to that place." She gave a small smile at his reassurances and prayed he was right.

They entered the bank as soon as they heard the lock being undone. The banker seemed a bit shocked to see them entering so quickly.

"Well good morning Miss Stark, Sheriff," the banker greeted them as he made his way back behind the counter. "I was troubled to hear about the fire," he added looking at Sansa kindly. "But I'm glad you and Arya weren't hurt."

"Thank you," she said.

"So you're in need of a withdrawal I assume?" the banker said.

"In a way. I'm interested in purchasing the building at 37 Main. The old apothecary. It's my understanding that the bank took possession of it when the owner left town," Sansa said.

"We did, but unfortunately I can't sell it to you," the banker said. She glanced at Jon.

"I'm willing to sign all the needed paperwork. You can list me as the official owner," Jon said.

"While that would be helpful, that's not the reason I'm unable to sell it to you. That building was sold a month ago," the banker said.

"Oh, but no one's done anything with it. It's still vacant with a for sale sign," Sansa said.

"Let me check something," the banker said pulling out a ledger. He paged through it and stopped to review a certain page. "Ah, it's because the owner purchased it to lease out. Would you want to lease it?"

"Perhaps. Who's the owner?" Sansa said. She'd had her heart set on that space for quite some time now. Perhaps leasing won't be so terrible, it would keep her from draining a chunk of their account and if things went well perhaps she could talk the owner into selling it to her somewhere down the line.

"Some corporation based out of Phoenix it appears. They left us to act as the leasing agent. I can draw up the contract if you're interested. Just need first and last month's rent up front."

She looked at Jon. "If you want to think about it, I'm sure Olenna's fine with you staying as long as you need. We could even look for another place if you want."

She knew there wasn't really any other place in town currently available that would work as well. If she was going to do this, it might as well be now. "No, I don't need to think about it," she said to him and then turned to the banker. "You can draw up the contract. I'd like to lease the place."

They spent the next hour working with the banker and signing the contracts. When it was all said in done she was able to leave the bank with the keys in her front pocket.

As soon as they stepped from the bank on to the sidewalk she heard her name being called by none other than Petyr. She sighed as she turned to watch him approach. She knew she couldn't be too upset by his appearance, especially since with assistance from Olenna and some luck, she had managed to avoid him all weekend. He had made a beeline for her now, pulling her into an embrace while murmuring, "My poor poor girl." She waited a moment and then wiggled away from him when Jon cleared his throat. The last things she wanted was for Jon to get angry enough to pull him off her.

"Is there anything I can do for you? I know you like to stand on your own two feet, but now is not the time for your pride. You know you and Arya always have a place here with me. I can have your rooms made up today," he said, his smile far too bright for the situation.

"That won't be necessary. As you know, Olenna's putting us up," Sansa said.

"Yes, but how much longer can she continue to let you stay for free? While kind of her, she doesn't have the same resources I do, and I know you won't want to burden the old woman like that."

"We won't be there much longer," she said. She could hear Jon practically grinding his teeth.

"And how's that? I heard Winterfell was a complete loss."

"It was," Sansa said.

"Well if you are not going to stay with me – wait, are you planning to leave?" He turned an angry gaze towards Jon.

"We aren't leaving. We plan on rebuilding, not right away, but we will rebuild Winterfell."

"Sansa, dear –"

"We should be going," Jon interrupted. "Arya's waiting."

"I must insist you tell me your plans. I have a duty –"

Sansa sighed. She might as well tell him, it was only a matter of time until he found out anyways. "I've rented a place here in town. I'll be opening a store front."

"Oh. Well, are you in need of a loan?" She shook her head "An investor perhaps?" She shook her head again. He eyed her suspiciously, clearly trying to figure out how a girl who had just been burned out of her home could afford to do what she planned without help. "Did you take a loan from the bank? I assure you the interest –"

"No, I've got it all handled. Thank you though."

He glanced at Jon again for a split second clearly trying to puzzle out if he might be the source of her windfall. In the next instant it appeared he decided it was unlikely. "Well that's wonderful to hear. I think you'll like being in town permanently. I know I will appreciate seeing you around more."

"Sansa, we really need to go," Jon said. Petyr now openly stared daggers at him but he did step out of their way.

"If you need anything at all, you know where to find me. Give my regards to Arya."

"Of course," Sansa said and then walked away with Jon.

They hadn't spoken until they were back to the safety of the boarding house. They went into the backyard so they could talk alone for a few minutes.

"Every time he opens his mouth it takes everything in me not to punch him. The way he was trying to grab on to you – he's unbelievable," Jon fumed.

"Please forget him. The important thing is that I got the lease," she said twirling the key around her finger.

"And all on your own. I imagine it felt good to tell him you didn't need his help for anything."

"You know what else would feel good?" She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. He encircled her waist and kissed her back.

"So when will you be moving over?" he asked when they were done kissing.

"As soon as possible."

"What? You can't take living under the same roof as me any longer?" he teased. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of late last night. They had snuck into an empty room at the end of the hall, where they had kissed and carefully explored each other while lying on the bed. They had basically kept their clothes on, but Sansa knew that given a few more nights like that, it won't be long until she'd want them off.

"As a matter of fact, I can't," she said with a sweet lithe in her voice.

"Oh?" Jon said pulling back, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Jon. Let's be honest. How long do you think we could live under the same roof before….." Jon's eyes went a bit wide.

"Sansa, I can control myself."

"Like you did last night?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. She bit her lip when she remembered how it had felt when he had slid his hand in her bloomers and slid a finger inside her.

"I think you're teasing me."

"Perhaps….." she said as she trailed her fingers down her neck and played with the collar of her shirt. He shook his head and he drew her close to kiss her once more.

xxxxx

She and Arya moved into the apartment above the shop by the end of the week. Margaery had given them gave them a bunch of mismatched cast-off furniture from High Garden which she refused to accept payment for. Sansa was grateful, even if she didn't love the idea of taking charity. They were far from destitute, but now with mortgage and rent, Sansa knew they needed to be careful with money while she built the business.

She knew she was about to become very busy. Arya had agreed to help where she could, but she also had to meet the demands of her agreement with the butcher for game and meat, which meant she spent a great deal of time with Nymeria out in the scrub.

The first two week after the move flew by, what with settling in, catching up on the prior week's laundry, cleaning out and rearranging the downstairs store for official business. It felt like she was working nearly every hour from sunup to sundown. She doubted she was far off based on how exhausted she felt at the end of every day.

The one thing she did appreciate about the exhaustion though, was that it left her little time or energy to worry over Jon being sheriff. He was already at the end of his third week before she had even spared it another thought. And despite her initial concerns, outside of the fire, those initial weeks of his tenure had been surprisingly uneventful. Sure, Petyr glowered at him most days, but almost surprisingly, he mostly kept his distance and didn't actively seem to be making trouble.

Jon had hired his deputy last week, selecting nice sturdy Grenn from the boarding house. Grenn had had been thrilled to leave the mine behind. Jon had selected him in part because they had gotten on well in the boarding house, but more importantly he had no known ties to Petyr.

Being sheriff here was as uneventfully as he could have hoped. When duty did call it was mostly for petty thefts, miners groping the saloon girls without paying, and drunken bar fights. In fact, it seemed his main duty was locking folks up so they could cool their heels while they sobered up. He knew he should be pleased by the ease of it all, but honestly it made him a bit nervous. He couldn't help but wonder if this was part of some plan to lull him into complacency, a false sense of security.

He had tried to investigate the former sheriff's murder, but that had quickly stalled. His only real lead had been from the word carved in the head. So, he had done what he could to investigate Locke's possible involvement. He had gone out and searched the area that had once been Locke's claim, but he found nothing to lead him to believe anyone had been there in quite some time. His best guess was that Locke had returned to the Boltons. Whether that was before or after the murder he had no idea. His only hope now was that that it had taken him out of the territory. He hated to admit it, but Petyr had been right, without witnesses and nothing outside of a head to gather evidence from, he had little to go on. He had begrudgingly filed the case out of active investigation just yesterday.

"Anything on the wires today?" Jon asked as he entered the Western Union office shortly after it opened.

"As a matter of fact, there is," Mr. Pycelle answered him from behind the counter.

Jon wasn't yet sure how he felt about the old telegraph operator. He had been warned by Tormund that Pycelle had a habit of selling information to Baelish whenever he received or sent messages that he thought Petyr might find interesting. He was still trying to form his own opinion, but he found himself weary of him just the same.

"Here you are," the old man said handing him a couple of dispatches.

"Thank you," Jon said and then left the office.

He headed back to the sheriff's office. He had planned to spend the morning doing paperwork while he waited for Sansa who was supposed to meet him for lunch after she dropped off all the laundry. That was one aspect of the job he didn't much care for, the paperwork. The recently appointed marshal out of Tucson, who he ultimately reported to, was a stickler for paperwork. Apparently, he had missed his opportunity for the easy life under the prior marshal. It was said he hadn't much cared what went on in the smaller towns so long as he didn't have to come out himself.

He sat as his desk and opened the dispatches. The first one was nothing special, a simple notification that a new sheriff had been elected in Sierra Vista. But the second one gave him pause. It was a report that the Boltons had been spotted up near Benson, stealing horses and robbing the occasional stagecoach after it left the train depot. Benson was roughly a three-day ride from here, so while it wasn't an immediate concern, it was something he would need to pay attention to. A proximity like that could very well lead to a posse call.

He set the dispatches aside and then went to work updating his logs from yesterday, as well as filing a report for some missing chickens that he couldn't convince Mrs. Dormund had simply wandered off and been eaten by coyotes.

When he finished he looked up expecting it to be close to lunchtime. He groaned when he found he still at least another hour before Sansa was likely to arrive. He decided to walk the block in order to stretch his legs. His office was towards the north end of Main Street so he headed south.

As he neared Oathkeepers he saw Tormund coming from the opposite direction. They met in front of the saloon and found the door was still bolted. He thought it odd, Brienne typically had the place opened by now.

"What'd you do to make her lock you out now?" he asked Tormund as he came up alongside him.

"Why is it you always think I did something?"

"Why do you think?" Tormund responded with a laugh. "Kinda late for her not to be open thought isn't it?" Jon asked.

"That it is," Tormund agreed and knocked on the door. "Brienne! You in there?"

There was no answer. "You think she might still be asleep?" Jon asked.

"No way. That woman is always up at the crack of dawn."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that." Tormund raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Maybe she ran out to the bank or to get something from Luwin's," Jon suggested.

"Maybe." Tormund as he moved to peer in the window. "Holy shit!"

Before Jon could ask him what he saw, Tormund had kicked the door in and raced inside. Jon pulled his gun and followed him in. The inside of the saloon had been smashed up. Brienne lay near the back stairs that led up to her apartment. She was on her stomach, her hands tied behind her back. From the blood on her head and the odd angle of her leg made it was clear she had been badly beaten, though by some miracle she was still breathing. Tormund pulled out his knife and cut her hands free.

"Stay with her, I'm going to go fetch the doc," Jon told Tormund and raced out. He ran down the street to the doctor's office and brought Doc T and Sam back with him. The people they passed on the street seemed to be taking note and looked concerned seeing the doc with his bag following the sheriff. In that moment he was actually thankful that neither Sam nor Doc T could run, the last thing he wanted was a bunch of people following to rubberneck, or worse, incite a panic.

They entered Oathkeepers, and after the doc cleared it, Jon and Tormund picked Brienne up with as much care as they could and carried her up to her room. They laid her on the bed and Doc T told them to wait outside so they could go to work. Tormund had protested but Jon had forced him out. They now stood in the hallway waiting. Tormund had been pacing, muttering under his breath in a clear rage.

"She'd never hurt anyone. Who the fuck did this?" Tormund demanded of Jon.

Jon opened his mouth to assure him he would find out but stopped when he heard a noise downstairs.

"Stay here," he told Tormund instead. "Guard the door." He unholstered his gun and went down the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. He highly doubted whoever was responsible had come back in broad daylight, but he also knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Brienne?!" he heard Sansa's voice call out in alarm just as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He let out a breath and put his gun away as he rounded the corner into the main room.

"Sansa."

"Jon? What happened here? Where's Brienne?"

"She's upstairs with Sam and Doc T. Tormund and me found her a little while ago, someone beat her up pretty bad."

"Is she going to be alright?!"

"Sam and the doc are in with her now. We should know soon."

"I just - I don't understand. Who would do this?"

"Not sure just yet. She was out cold. I'll have to talk to her once she comes to."

"I can't believe someone would do this to her. God, please let her be ok."

"I have every reason to think she'll be ok," he soothed taking her in his arms. "And I'll get to the bottom of it, but I don't think you should stay here."

"You think it's unsafe?" she asked alarmed.

"I need to look around and see, but there's no reason for you to stay here. I got it under control," he said releasing her.

"Are you sure I can't help? This place is a mess."

"We gotta leave it for now. I need to have a look around before we clean it up. There is one thing you could do though. Can you find me Pod? Probably should make sure he's alright and I should probably see if anything went on here last night. See if Theon or Loras can go with you though. I don't want you to go alone."

"Ok." Her voice shook a little as she continued to look around the busted-up saloon.

"She's gonna be alright," he said pulling her into another embrace. Sansa nodded into his shoulder.

"Alright," she said stepping back. "I'll go find Pod and send him on to you."

"Thank you, and be careful. If anything looks off, you just get out of there. Promise me."

"I promise."

xxxxxx

She had first gone to High Garden to enlist Loras to go over to Pod's place with her. He lived on the far south edge of town. When they arrived, everything appeared normal and they found him asleep. They told him what happened and he quickly dressed and went with them back to Oathkeepers.

By the time they made it back a small crowd had started to gather outside. Pod went inside to talk to Jon while Sansa and Loras joined the crowd and attempted to assure everyone everything was under control.

"Now what's going on over here?" Petyr asked sliding up next to her.

"Not completely sure. Jon said someone roughed up Brienne and the saloon pretty badly though." There was no reason to downplay it, everyone could see the damage inside and word had already begun to spread.

"That's simply terrible. And how is she?"

"Doc's in there now, but Jon said she should be ok."

"I do hope this isn't the beginning of a trend. I've heard talk that crime is on the rise across the territory." Sansa could hear the false sincerity in his voice. A competitor was out of commission; she knew this had to please him on some level.

"Well let's hope it was an isolated incident then," she said. He gave her a placating smile.

Jon appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Hey folks. Just wanted to let everyone know, Brienne's going to be alright. Doc T says she's pretty banged up, but she'll recover. You can all go on about your business, but if anyone has any information on what happened here, please come talk to me. Now or later on." Their eyes met and he flicked his gaze to Petyr before looking back at her. He was not pleased, but his expression seemed to be asking her if everything was alright. She gave him a look that told him everything was fine. He gave her a single reluctant nod before going back inside.

A few continued to mill around, but when it was clear no one had any further information to share, they began to disperse. Petyr stayed by her side, he seemed to be observing. He waited until they were nearly alone and then it looked as if he planned to say something more, but right before he could, Mr. Templeton arrived and whispered something in his ear she could not hear.

"Well it would appear I have my own problems to attend to. Stay safe Sansa," he said and then walked away.

She lingered a moment longer, looking inside the saloon one more time. She hated that for now there was nothing more she could do. So with a resigned sigh, she headed off to finish her deliveries.


	19. Chapter 19

It had been almost two weeks since the incident at Oathkeepers and Jon had made little headway with the investigation. So far it had remained an isolated incident and there had been few leads. Pod had told him there hadn't been anything out of the ordinary the night before, in fact he said it had been a rather slow night. They hadn't had to toss anyone out and no one had seemed angry. No one else had come forward with any information either. There were mentions of the Boltons tossed about, but there was nothing to actually indicate their involvement. Reports still put them at least forty miles away still harassing the train depot.

When Brienne was finally able to talk to him, she didn't have much insight either. She agreed with Pod that it has been a slow night prior, and she couldn't think of anyone that might have an axe this big to grind with her. She told him that there had at least been two attackers. She had heard noises shortly before dawn and had been on her way downstairs to see what the fuss was. She said someone had jumped her at the top of the stairs; that they had fallen together. She had tried to fight the one that had fallen with her, but someone else got the drop on her. They had tied her up while she had been unconscious. She had come to as they had finished trashing the place. One of them had noticed she was awake and had hit her over the head with a bottle. That was the last thing she had recalled. She hadn't gotten a good look at either man, but she was certain they were men.

When he had finished looking for clues in the wreckage, a bunch of them had come together and helped clean the place up. Pod had reopened the place the day after they cleaned it up. Brienne was still on the mend, but with a broken leg there wasn't much she could do to help, and the doctor had insisted she rest. It frustrated her to no end. Jon wasn't sure what making her more frustrated though, her inability to do anything or Tormund's constant fussing over her.

Tonight he was meeting Sam, Gilly, Theon, Sansa and Arya for dinner. Since the assault he hadn't thought it proper to take much time off, but Sansa had insisted that he take a break this evening. He had reluctantly agreed, but now as he clutched a newly received telegram, he wished he hadn't.

He didn't want to disappoint his friends or Sansa though, and since there was nothing much he could do about it, he was on his way to Hobb's. He arrived to find them all waiting on him. "Sorry I'm late, official business," he said as he took his seat.

"No need to apologize," Sansa said. He could tell by her concerned expression that he was not hiding his worry very well.

"Something else happen?" Sam asked.

"No, not yet anyhow," Jon answered.

"Yet?" Gilly asked with concern.

"No, no, nothing's happened. Nothing new tonight, and nothing with Brienne's case either," Jon said a bit harshly. Gilly frowned and looked at Sam as if to ask what she had done wrong.

"Perhaps we can order and talk about something else," Sansa said giving him a look that told him he needed to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Jon said now slightly embarrassed. "It's just all been rather frustrating."

"It's alright," Gilly said.

The waitress arrived and took their order. Sam took the opportunity to change the topic to Jon's upcoming birthday. Jon found his mind drifting from the conversation, mostly nodding and agreeing with whatever was said. He couldn't get his mind off the words on the telegram.

They finished dinner and said their goodbyes. Theon and Sam said they were planning to head to Oathkeepers after Sam walked Gilly to High Garden. Arya said she would meet them at Oathkeepers, she thought Brienne might like some company. Sansa told her she would swing by to fetch her when she was ready to head for home. Jon knew Arya was trying to give them some time alone since they had barely seen each other outside of passing, in the last week.

"You were rather distracted at dinner," Sansa said once they were alone. Jon shrugged. "You really need to take a break. It's been two weeks and frankly you look like hell."

"Noted."

"Jon –"

"I don't think I have the luxury," he told her.

"What's going on?" He took the telegram from his pocket and handed it to her. He watched her face as she read it in the light from the café windows. "So they're headed south now?" she asked looking at him with alarm.

"Would appear so. Railroad finally had enough of them, paid the army to set a perimeter and chase them off. Though seems to me all they really did was just push them south, towards the smaller towns like us. Guess they didn't care if it became someone else's problem."

"So what's that mean for us?"

"Could mean nothing, could mean bad news. I'm not sure yet."

"You don't think they'll just head into Mexico?"

"If the army had kept pursuing maybe, but doesn't seem like that's the case."

"So what are you gonna do?" Jon could see how concerned she was. She was looking at him and wringing her hands over and over. He reached out and took her hands in his to stop her.

"For now I'm just gonna wait and see. There's nothing to indicate they would be coming here, and I'm not planning on trying to invite trouble. Please try not to worry so."

"Am I so obvious?"

"Terribly."

She gave him a sad smile. He offered her his arm and they started to walk down the street towards Oathkeepers.

"You know I thought I was getting used to it," she said after a bit.

"To what?"

"You being sheriff. I think I almost did there for a bit, when it was calm and it seemed like you might not be in any real danger. But now with what happened to Brienne, and now this news of the Boltons, well I see I've been lying to myself."

He stopped and moved in front of her. "I firmly believe I'm meant to be the sheriff here. I do wish it didn't upset you though."

"I know," she sighed. "And I know it's the right thing for you and the town…... You're good at it you know."

"What? At being sheriff?" he scoffed. "I haven't even solved either of the major cases I've had."

"You're doing your best. Everyone can tell you're trying, that you care. That matters to people, it really does."

"I just wish I had more to offer than effort and hope."

"Sometimes those things are more important than results."

"You're too good to me."

"I know," she teased. That made him laugh. It was probably the first time he'd laughed in weeks. "Do you have to get back to it or do you have time for a drink? I know the others miss you as much as I have."

"Well I don't expect the Boltons will turn up here tonight. I can make time for one drink." She gave him a smile and they started back down the street. He truly didn't want one, but he did want to see her smile. He told himself there was no harm in one drink.

xxxxxx

It was Jon's birthday the following weekend, and he hadn't realized until too late that he had agreed to a party. He knew he should've listened better at that dinner.

The party was held Sunday night. Honestly, it hadn't been all bad, the food had been delicious, and the company even better, though it had been a larger gathering than he expected. The Tyrells, Brienne, Pod, Tormund, and Theon in addition to himself, Sam, Gilly and the Starks. A couple of the girls from High Garden had stuck around as well since the party was being held there.

They had all shared stories and laughter during the meal. Afterwards they shared a lot of laughter as the beer and wine had begun to flow freely. When the warm gentle buzz had unexpectedly settled in, he decided to give himself permission to forget all of his concerns over the safety of the town for the rest of the day, Grenn was duty, plus it was his birthday after all and nothing else had happened since Brienne's assault and the Boltons were recently seen near Gleeson which was a two day ride from here. He told himself it would all be alright for one night. And the last few weeks had been so trying though, they had worn him down. Was it so wrong to want a break?

He knew he might've had one too many though when Sansa had said she was going to the kitchen to start on the dishes and he had followed her claiming he wanted to help. Tormund had laughed and made some crude comment that had made a few people laugh and Sansa hollered at him to mind his manners and his own business.

"You better be here to actually help. No funny business mister," she said as they entered into the kitchen. He had just smiled devilishly and picked up a dish cloth.

He managed to help her clean and dry all of about five dishes before he had decided to pin her to the sink and attempt to ravage her. She let him go only so far, mostly kissing and some over the clothes groping. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or all the pent up energy of the last few months but he started to whisper all the filthy things he wanted to do to her into her ear. She has blushed and giggled, but she was far less intoxicated than him. When he began to beg her to sneak off with him so he could actually do all the things to her, she had declined. He had pouted and whined, as his hands had worked under her skirts and his mouth at her neck. She had held fast in her refusal, reminding him that they had agreed they didn't want to find themselves parents to a bastard. He had finally accepted defeat, though not before she let him slide his hand in her bloomers and touch her. She would never tell him such a thing, but it had nearly changing her mind into leaving with him. She decided then it was best they went back to the others.

When they came back Marge had been smirking, Tormund had just looked at his watch and laughed.

The night had ended with cake and then he and Sam had gone back to the boarding house after leaving Sansa and Arya at their front door. When they finally got in their room Jon started to bemoan the fact that he was going to bed alone. Sam, clearly over Jon's drinking, had told him it was probably better this way, explaining he'd had far too much beer to be able to do anything anyways. He had asked Sam how he knew such a thing, but then had fallen into a deep sleep before Sam could answer.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep when he awoke to Sam shaking him. "Jon! Hey, I think you need to get up."

"Ugh, no! It's not even full light yet," Jon groaned.

"I know but I think I heard something outside."

He rolled over, he thought he might still be a bit drunk since the room shifted and spun. "Fuck," he groaned.

There was a knock at the door then and Sam crossed the room and opened it. Olenna stood there and looked concerned. "Did you hear that ruckus a moment ago?" she asked.

"Sure did," Sam said. "He's waking up now."

Jon groaned and sat up in bed. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he figured he couldn't just ignore it now that Olenna was here. He pulled on his boots and gun belt before moving into the hallway. He was almost out the front door when he heard a crash, the sound of shattering glass. The sound instantly sobered him up. He pulled his gun and ran in to the street.

"Halt!" he shouted at the figure in front of Hobb's. The person hurled something at the last unbroken window, shattering it and then they took off running.

Jon gave chase, but the man was quicker and bolted down an alley where he apparently had a horse waiting. He galloped passed Jon, nearly knocking him over. Some other people had come out onto the streets to see what the commotion was about. Because of that and his hangover he decided not to fire his gun, less he hit a bystander. There was nothing he could do but watch the vandal run off.

He holstered his gun and scratched his beard with a heavy sigh. When he looked up he noticed Petyr standing on the sidewalk across from him, a pleased smirk was present on his face. He shook his head at Jon with feigned disappointment.

"You get a look at him?" Jon asked.

"Did you?" Petyr countered. "You know it is your job to stop this sort of thing."

Jon glared him and then marched back down to the street towards Hobb's to assess the damage. He knew it would only be a matter of hours before the whole town would be buzzing with Petyr's version of what had happened. He knew it wouldn't look good for him. He also knew the only way to counteract it was to get to work figuring out who had done this.


	20. Chapter 20

"So that makes two acts of vandalism, one with an assault, and no leads?" Petyr asked.

"No one's been able or willing to come forth with any information," Jon answered as he stood at the front of the church.

"So yes…. This is all rather worrisome. I think I speak for more than myself when I tell you as a business owner in this town, well it's rather disconcerting to think my assets are vulnerable."

"I can assure you I'm doing everything I can to make sure this town is a safe place. At least no one was hurt in this latest incident."

"Yes, I suppose we can all find some peace in that," Petyr said, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Jon was doing his best to remain calm. The mayor had called this "meeting" so all the business owners could get an update on the "crime wave." No one at the front of the room but Jon seemed to think calling it a crime wave was a bit extreme. He knew Petyr had requested this meeting just so he could try his best to humiliate him. It seemed to be working.

"So what is your plan to put a stop to this?" Petyr asked.

"Well since most of the issues seem to be at night, it seems like we need to institute a consistent night patrol. Grenn and I have already worked out a schedule, but if we could hire another deputy it could prove helpful."

Petyr stared pointedly at the mayor. "I don't think the town has the funds for that right now," the mayor sighed. Petyr smirked at Jon.

"Well then we'll continue to investigate and try and do our best to see that nothing further happens."

"And what about the reports that the Boltons are in the area?" someone suddenly asked from the back.

"There's been no verified sightings within a two day's ride of here. We certainly haven't found any evidence during our patrols either," Jon answered.

"Don't you think it's concerning that right around the time the Boltons have been spotted in the area, the crime increased?" the mayor asked.

"As I said, there's been no verified sightings within twenty miles of here."

"Be that as it may, we clearly have verified crimes," the mayor countered.

"That's true, but again there is nothing to support the Boltons or any other major gang is involved in them."

"But it's not impossible," Mr. Templeton said from his seat near Petyr.

"No, I suppose not. However if that is the case, I can't help but wonder why the Boltons would be drawn to a town like ours. It makes little sense given there are far wealthier towns in the area," Jon countered. He and Petyr made eye contact then. Petyr's eyes narrowed dramatically as he glared at Jon.

Jon saw Brienne trying to catch his eye, she was shaking her head, her expression telegraphing that he needed to pull back and be careful.

"Well as the largest property owner in town, I'd like to offer a solution," Petyr said. An uneasy murmur swept quietly across the room. Petyr waited for quiet to return.

"Well what is it Baelish?" someone called out from the back of the room when it appeared he was still pausing for drama.

"I'd be willing to have the men on my payroll assist with a nighttime patrol of interested businesses. For a price of course, just to cover costs."

"Why would we pay you when the sheriff just said he and the deputy are going to be doing a regular night patrol now?" Loras asked.

"You could wait to see how that goes, I suppose. You can also pray your business doesn't end up like Hobb's or Oathkeepers." Petyr turned to Jon then. "No offense sheriff, I know you're doing the best you can, but well your track record speaks for itself." Petyr smiled coldly at Jon before turning his attention back to the room at large. "It's just a proposal folks, if you all want to wait to see how the sheriff's patrol goes, well that's your choice. I just hope the next time we meet to discuss this, no one has died."

A cry rose in the room at his words. Tormund met Jon's eye and shook his head. They both knew this is what Petyr had wanted all along.

"And what if we don't want to pay right now?" someone asked.

"Well then you simply stay at the mercy of whoever is behind all this and hope Sheriff Snow here makes an arrest before your business is hit."

Whispers and grumbles filled the room again. Jon could see the room was divided, half of them still seemed to have faith in him and half seemed to be considering Petyr's offer. Based on Petyr's recent behavior he had become rather convinced that he was somehow behind the two incidents, he just didn't have any proof yet.

"Well for now we'll leave it at this," the mayor began. "Sheriff Snow will keep trying to do his best to solve these cases, but in the meantime anyone that wishes to contract for extra protection can contact Mr. Baelish. I imagine both groups can stay out of each other's way. Do we all agree?"

A murmur of assent filled the room. "Then it's settled. Thank you for your time everyone." With that the mayor clacked the gavel and ended the meeting. Petyr continued to smile smugly at Jon.

Jon tipped his hat and then banged out of the church. He wasn't sure who he was more annoyed with, Petyr for making him look like he was incompetent, or himself for allowing him the opportunity.

xxxxxx

"We're not paying him, plain and simple," Marge announced as they all sat at one of the long tables in the pavilion a couple days later.

Sansa glanced at Jon who was deep in conversation with Doc T and Sam. "You should do what's best for you and Loras. Your loyalty to Jon is appreciated but don't feel like you have to," she said quietly.

"Please, while I'm fond of your handsome paramour, you know me well enough to know I make my own choices. And we both know while Petyr would happily take my money, my place would be one the last ones that he would defend."

"That's probably accurate. Is anyone else opting out?"

"More than I expected actually. I have it on good authority there hasn't been much interest shown. Seems most people haven't lost faith in the law just yet. Plus between you and me, I won't put it pass Petyr to be the reason behind this whole crime wave."

"You actually believe that?"

"Don't you?"

"Yes. Jon thinks the same thing as well."

"Oh, I know. Plenty of people know that," Marge said, her features showing some concern.

"What? Jon's not a gossip," Sansa hissed in a low voice.

"Course not, but he all but accused Petyr in that meeting. Loras said it was quite entertaining, though I'm concerned by the wisdom of it."

Sansa took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Jon hadn't told her that. The last thing he should be doing was publicly antagonizing Petyr.

"How's he taking all this by the way?" Marge asked.

"Fine I suppose. He'd be much better if he could actually get a lead."

"I suppose it's probably putting a damper on things in the bedroom," Marge said as she popped a piece of melon in her mouth.

Sansa felt herself turning red. "I told you, we aren't doing that yet," she hissed.

"Pity. It would probably relieve a lot of his stress."

Jon looked at them then, almost as if he sensed they were discussing him and smiled. Sansa looked away and hide her face. Marge just laughed.

"Well suit yourselves. But if you ever decide you need a room for an hour or two, you just come let me know."

xxxxxx

Things remained quiet for the next week. Petyr naturally tried to take as much of the credit as he could. But Sansa and most of the rest of the folks in town preferred to believe it was Jon and Grenn's efforts that had kept the peace.

"Reports are putting them closer and closer," Pycelle said as he handed Jon a stack of telegrams the following day. "Imagine it won't be too much longer and the call is going to come."

"Imagine so. Let me know if anything new comes in," Jon said as he left the Western Union office.

The reports of the Bolton's had been increasing. The marshal's office had indicated that they expected to call a posse up as soon as they had a confirmed location on the gang. The Boltons were robbing stage lines all over the southeastern part of the territory. But the army did not seem to have much interest in chasing them since they were leaving the rail lines alone at the moment. It seemed the Boltons had learned from their past mistakes.

The sun had already set as he made his way back to his office. He wanted to file the latest round of missives before going over to Oathkeepers for dinner. He found it useful to see what he could overhear on nights like this. He knew the town would be swirling with rumors since Pycelle could never keep anything of importance to himself.

He filed the telegrams and then headed to the saloon. He was greeted by the sight of Pod behind the bar. Brienne sat at a table near the back, her leg on a bench where she would bark orders at Pod every now and then. The saloon seemed to be picking up more and more business as of late. He knew some of it was a result of the meeting last week. Plus Petyr had taken out an announcement in the paper yesterday stating that due to the reports of the proximity of the Boltons, anyone not contracted in with his patrols by the end of the month might be facing a sharp price increase. It seemed that some folks had decided to respond to his threat by protest spending their drinking and whoring money at places like Oathkeepers and High Garden.

"You here to recruit for the posse?" Tormund asked looking up from his cards as Jon pulled up a chair.

"No, not yet. But the way it's looking I can't imagine it'll be too much longer. You thinking of joining?" Jon answered.

Tormund just grunted and then pushed some money into the middle of the table and waited on Luwin and Theon to respond.

Jon ordered dinner, he declined any alcohol. Since the incident after his birthday he had essentially sworn it off. Plus, he needed a clear head for later since he still had a planned to do a perimeter sweep tonight before he turned in.

He stayed in the saloon for a little over an hour. There was no useful chatter about the Boltons, mostly just quiet groaning over Petyr and his control on the town.

He paid his check and said his goodbyes and headed out to the stables. He saddled Ghost and rode out to the far edge of town. He went as far as the mine and then headed back towards town.

On his way back he came across a couple of men on the road to the mine. They were standing facing in such a direction he wasn't sure if they were coming or going from town. He glanced at his watch and realized that there was still two more hours till the shift change. He rode slowly towards the men and raised his hand in greeting.

"Evening fellas. Where you coming from?" he asked as he attempted to study their faces in the weak moonlight.

One of the men glanced at him quickly, eyes lingering for a moment on his badge and then looking down again. It was hard to see their faces under their hats. "Just headed to the mine, sheriff," the taller of the two answered.

"That so? Bit early for the shift change."

"We're just trying to get in early, hoping for some extra hours." The shorter man started to cough violently.

"You alright?" Jon asked hoping the man would look at him.

"Yes, thank you," he answered not looking up.

"Alright, well you both have a good evening," Jon said sending them on their way. The men wished him the same and continued on towards the mine. Jon rode a short distance away and then stopped to watch them go. They walked at a normal pace, not speaking to each other. They didn't seem nervous and they didn't look back to see if he was watching, so he decided they must've been telling the truth and let them carry on.

He clicked to Ghost then and continued with his patrol. He circled back through town, clearing the south end before riding through the alleys on the east and west sides before taking Ghost back to the stables for the night.

When he was finished he headed back up Main Street towards Olenna's to turn in for the night. Petyr was standing out in front of The Triple P as he passed.

"And how is our fair town tonight sheriff? Anything of interest out there in the desert?" Petyr asked.

"Everything seems fine," Jon answered, pausing for a moment to look up at Baelish. Something flickered behind his eyes, Jon saw it for the briefest moment. "You expecting a different answer?" Jon almost asked, but he stopped himself in time.

"Good. Hope it remains like that when you head off for the posse. I'd hate for anything to happen to the town. I'd hate it even more if you were somehow blamed for it. I know how you hate to disappoint people."

Ever since the town business meeting, this seemed to be their new way of speaking to each other. Petyr throwing veiled or barbed comments, and Jon doing his best to not take the bait. He knew Petyr was seething mad at him due to his comment at the meeting that implied he might be to blame for the Boltons' nearby presence. Sansa had warned him he needed to back off making any more public accusations until he had some sort of proof.

"That I do. I just want the best for everyone here, same as you, right?" Jon said holding Petyr's gaze.

"Of course," Petyr agreed staring back just as hard.

"Glad we're in agreement then. Goodnight Mr. Baelish," Jon said and then continued down the street without waiting to hear his response.


	21. Chapter 21

"I've called this meeting of the Copper Canyon Town Council because I've just received information that members of the Bolton Gang have been seen in the foothills out pass the mine," Petyr announced as the stood in the church a couple evenings later.

"If that's true then why is this the first we're hearing about it?" Grenn asked, his annoyance clear. "And why a whole meeting, why not just send the information on to us?" Jon shot him a look that told him he needed to let him do the talking.

"Seems people might just trust me a little more, you know on account of my long history in this town. Anyways I would think the more important question is if you're doing your patrols, how could you miss something like this?"

"Now hold on a minute. Who says your source is even telling the truth? Have you gone and looked yourself?" Grenn shot back.

"Isn't that your job?" Petyr asked snidely.

"Mister," Grenn began rising to his feet.

"Alright, alright," Jon said raising his hands and giving Grenn a look that told him to sit down. "You're right, it is our job. So if you have new information, give it to us so we can investigate."

"Aren't you leaving for the posse soon?" Petyr asked suddenly. Jon felt perplexed at his change of topic.

"How's that relevant?" Grenn asked.

"The official call hasn't come up yet," Jon answered him. "But since you brought it up, we should discuss how many men we can send."

"Well I don't see how we can spare any outside of you two. I mean, if you and the deputy are going to go, we need to leave people here to protect the town. Especially now, what with the Boltons being so close to us," the mayor interjected and looked to Petyr for approval.

"I would think that is all the more reason to send who we can. We need to bring them to justice and eliminate the threat," Jon said. "And nothing has happened in the last couple of weeks. So even if there are Bolton men in the foothills, they don't appear to be concerned with us at the moment."

"Why don't we wait to see the state of the town when the call actually comes before we make a decision," Petyr offered. Jon narrowed his eyes at him. There was something behind those words and he did not care for it one bit.

"Agreed," the mayor said before Jon could protest. He felt his anger growing, he hated these meetings more and more.

"Perfect, it's settled. Sheriff please let us know as soon as the call comes up."

"As you wish. Now let's get back to the first matter. Who told you they saw a Bolton camp?"

xxxxx

It had taken some cajoling, mostly so Petyr could feel important, but eventually Jon had been able to get Petyr to tell him who had reported the possible Bolton sighting to him. He and Grenn had agreed to go talk to him right after the meeting.

His name was Dontos Hollard, a former miner turned fur trapper. Grenn recalled him from the mine, telling Jon he recalled he often drank too much and could be easily agitated. Since he had some first-hand experience with him, Grenn insisted they go together. When they reached his small shanty at the edge of the foothills, full dark had fallen. Dontos was already well into his cups. They made him coffee and some food in order to sober him up. It took a few hours but by the time the man started to tell his story, Jon couldn't help but wonder if it was possible Dontos had hallucinated the whole thing while drinking. But when he questioned him, he swore up and down that what he was telling them was the truth. He said that just yesterday he had been up in the foothills checking his beaver traps beside one of the streams, when he had spotted a campsite.

"But why do you assume it belongs to someone from the Bolton Gang?" Jon asked.

"Cause of this," Dantos answered. He then produced a couple of small carved wooden figures from the pouch on his belt. The figure looked to be a man breaking his chains. He recognized the figure as one of the reported calling cards of "Small" Jon Umber. He rode with the Boltons. There was a well-known story had made the rounds that after he killed a man he would shove a small figure, much like this one, into the mouth of his victim. In fact, their local newspaper had just mentioned it in an article a couple weeks back.

"That could just be a child's toy," Grenn said looking at the roughly carved figure.

"Was there anything else there to indicate who might be camping there?" Jon asked.

"No sir. It looked like no one had been there for a couple days maybe. There was just some animal bones and a couple of those figures."

"Do you think you could take us to the location tomorrow morning?" Jon asked.

"I could try, it's not so far from one of my traps."

"Alright then. We'll be back around eight," Jon said.

"You could bunk here if you wanted," Dontos offered.

"Thanks, but we need to check in on the town if we are going to be gone most of the day tomorrow," Jon answered.

"Are you sure? It's some ways back and it's very dark," Dontos said. Jon noticed he was looking at the clock on the wall and was fidgeting a bit Jon.

"No, we need to be getting back," Jon answered, measuring his words.

"I think it would be better if you stayed. Actually, I think I might be remembering something else." Dantos was looking at the clock again. Grenn seemed to notice this time and caught Jon's eye.

"You can tell me in the morning," Jon said starting to feel a bit uneasy. "You should turn in. And don't drink anymore tonight." His tone offered no more room for argument.

"Alright," Dontos said reluctantly and then looked longingly at the jug of moonshine on his table.

"We'll bring this back in the morning," Grenn said picking up the jug as he made his way to the door.

Jon nodded his assent and then wished Dontos goodnight before following Grenn outside.

"Do you believe him?" Grenn asked as the mounted their horses to head back to town.

"I don't know. That figure gives me pause though. If they're that close, why has no one else seen them? Why has nothing else happened? It just doesn't make sense, no one in that gang is known for their restraint."

"Not rightly sure… So we really have to be back out here in just a few hours?" Grenn asked after he mounted his horse.

"Yeah, but hey, consider yourself lucky I didn't agree for us to spend the night here."

They rode back towards town. It was late, well pass last call at the saloons, he expected things to be dark and quiet, and yet as they neared, something felt off. They were still far enough back that he could see down the back side of the businesses on the east side of Main Street. Something caught his eye then, but it took his mind a moment to register that it was a fire.

"Go! Ring the fire alarm!" he ordered Grenn and then kicked Ghost to a gallop and circled down the back alley as Grenn made for Main Street.

As he drew near he realized it was the back side of High Garden that was burning. He jumped from Ghost and ran into the building through the entrance just in front of the kitchen. He raced into the main part of the building shouting and yelling for everyone to get up and out.

"What on earth?!" Margaery shouted coming to the edge of the balcony.

"Fire! The back of the building! You have to get out!" Jon shouted at her as more doors along the mezzanine flew open. He shouted fire again and everyone started to run down the stairs as the smell of smoke started to waft in. He and Loras ran back towards the kitchen, the back wall of which was now on fire, as Marge helped the girls evacuate out the front. They grabbed some buckets and ran out the side door.

The fire was spreading. Jon knew they only had a short window in which to either get this under control or risk the whole structure going up. They ran to the water barrels kept along the back of the businesses for just this sort of event. They filled their buckets and working as fast as possible, tried to keep the flames under control until reinforcements arrived. Thankfully Grenn had sounded the alarm quickly and others began to pour into the back alley and assist them with the buckets. A couple minutes later the fire cart, normally kept at the livery for just such a disaster, showed up.

With everyone working together they were able to get the fire under control and put out before it caused damage beyond the kitchen. Luckily it did not spread to any of the other nearby buildings either.

When they were sure the fire was out, Jon, Loras and the rest of the men joined all the other people standing in front of High Garden.

"How bad is it?" Marge asked her brother.

"Kitchen's a goner, but we stopped it before it spread too much further," Loras told her.

"Did it start in the kitchen?" she asked in response.

"No, I don't think so," Jon answered keeping his voice low and looking around at all the people gathered around. He was trying to see if anyone seemed disappointed the building was still standing.

"I guess we were lucky you were out so late," Marge said to Jon.

"Guess so," he agreed, a feeling of foreboding sinking deep into his gut. Was he supposed to be out this late? What if they had stayed with Dontos? It all just seemed too coincidental. He swept his eyes over the crowd again, and this time he saw Petyr standing on the other side of the street with some of his men. He met Jon's eye and raised a glass to him. Though his gesture was congratulatory, his expression was cold.

Pieces started to fall into place. Petyr was the one that had sent him to Dontos. And Dontos had been looking at the clock, trying to get them to stay. Jon felt his anger rising and he started to march across the street. But before he could reach Petyr, Sam appeared before him.

"You're a hero!" Sam cried.

"Not now Sam," Jon said trying to move around him.

"But you are. Gilly just told me all about how you charged in through the flames, woke them all up and ushered them to safety."

"I woke them up, Marge made sure they all got out. Now if you'll excuse me."

"But –"

Petyr was retreating back towards his place. Jon wondered if he had seen the murderous glint in his eye, fleeing before Jon could confront him. He started to follow him and then from the corner of his eye he realized one of Petyr's men was watching him, his pistol in his hand. He slowed as he heard Sansa's voice in his head. "You'll need to be smarter than my brother, smarter than my father, if you want to survive here." He stopped, glancing briefly at the man and then made the decision to reluctantly let Petyr go.


	22. Chapter 22

"I'm just glad you're alright," Sansa said as she squeezed Margaery's hand.

"Me too. I'm just glad it wasn't worse. A kitchen is a small price to pay, all things considered," Marge agreed.

They sat on the front porch of High Garden, greeting well-wishers and looky-loos. Marge said they planned to reopen in a couple of days when the charred smell had cleared a bit more.

Sansa was keeping Marge company until Jon returned from his trip to the foothills, though in truth it was Marge keeping Sansa company. She had been extremely upset at Jon's insistence that Grenn stay in town while he went to search for a possible Bolton campsite alone this morning. The fire had left her a bit rattled, clearly there was someone close by that intended harm. How could he possibly think it wise to go and try to seek them out alone?

"You need to tell yourself he'll be alright," Marge said placing a hand on top of Sansa's fidgeting ones. "He charged into a burning building last night and wasn't even singed. That beau of yours seems to have some type for other worldly protection."

"You make him sound like something out of an old Indian tale," Sansa sighed.

"Perhaps he is. Someday there'll be talk of a legend. A handsome stranger, come to a lawless town to put it to order," Marge said in a dramatic voice.

"No, no," Sansa said with a laugh. "Legends are far more metaphorical. Because of his name they'll one day be a story of a blizzard that blanketed the desert and how it saved the world," she countered.

"You were always so good with the songs and stories," Marge said with a smile.

They sat for a bit in companionable silence watching people pass by on the street. "Did he mention if there was any further word on the posse this morning?"

"No, but then he left before the telegram office even opened."

Marge took her hand once more and squeezed it. "It's all going to be fine."

A few minutes later Jon and Ghost appeared in front of the dance hall. "Ladies," Jon greeted them as he dismounted.

"Well I don't see any Boltons in chains," Marge commented.

"No. It was just an abandoned camp sight. Not much to go on," Jon answered taking up Ghost's reigns and coming a step towards them.

"I don't know whether that is good news or bad," Sansa said rising to greet him.

"At this point, me either," Jon agreed.

They stood on the sidewalk talking about the fire briefly. Marge inquired if he thought the fire could be tied to the Boltons. Jon said he had no way of knowing that. He kept it to himself that he was certain all the vandalism was related, but he didn't want to start yet another rumor by putting it on the Boltons.

Grenn arrived a few minutes later holding a telegram. "It's official. We need to rendezvous with the posse in Tombstone day after tomorrow."

"That means you have to leave tomorrow," Sansa said. Her words came out sharper and louder than she had intended.

"Baelish and the mayor are already aware. And in light of recent events," Grenn gestured at High Garden, "they've called a meeting to discuss how many men can be spared." The two men exchanged a look as Sansa felt a chill run down her back despite the late afternoon warmth.

"What time?" Jon asked.

"Seven."

"You should eat before then. Grenn, I'm headed to my grandmother's, can you escort me?"

"Of course," he answered and reached for Ghost's reigns. "I'll come back as soon as a drop him by the livery."

"Thank you," Marge said and then turned to Jon and Sansa. "You two enjoy your dinner. Sansa, you some come by grandmother's after."

Sansa nodded. They all exchanged "see you laters" and then she and Jon took their leave and headed in the direction of Hobb's.

"He's going to try and send you alone isn't he?" she asked.

"I'm sure he'll allow me to take Grenn."

"Now is not the time for jokes Jon."

"Then yes, I'm prepared for him to argue that few can be spared for the posse."

"You seemed rather resigned to it," she observed, curious as to why he seemed so calm about the fact that Petyr was planning to try and send him off alone to die.

"I'm not resigned. But maybe it's not the worst thing. Say he and the mayor agree to send ten or fifteen men. Who would they agree to send? Men loyal to Petyr? That's not safe for me. And I have no intention of taking Tormund, Theon or Gendry with me. I'd prefer they stay here and keep the town safe." He stopped and turned to her then. "And you. It'll be a lot easier for me to leave knowing there are people here that will keep all the people I care about safe."

There was no good choice here. She understood his point, but she still hated it. She didn't like the idea of him riding out with only Grenn to watch his back. All she could hope now was that the other towns were able to muster and spare their honorable men.

"Are you sure you have to go at all? I would think perhaps for now it might better for everyone if you just stayed here. I mean someone just tried to burn down High Garden."

"I know. But by the same token if we just opt out of sending anyone, well that's going to put us at a greater risk in the long run. In the future, other towns aren't going to be so inclined to help us, should the need arise, if we're unwilling to help them now. According to the most recent reports the Boltons are doing a lot of damage around Gleeson."

"I still don't understand why the army's not handling this."

"At the moment it's been deemed a territory problem. Word is army can only get involved if they start harassing the rail lines again since that's interstate business."

"I don't care, given the threat it's just not right of them to just leave us to fend for ourselves like this."

"I know," he agreed and took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. "But for now, it's the only option we have."

xxxxxx

"Well I think we can all agree that there is no way we can even think of sparing anyone beyond the sheriff and the deputy," Petyr said.

There was a murmur of agreement in the room. Jon sighed, he had been prepared for this. He didn't even feel all that angry, for he had accepted that given what had happened last night, it was probably the best option for the town.

"But who's going to oversee things while the sheriff's gone?" someone asked.

"That's a fair question," the mayor said turning towards Petyr. "Would you and your security patrol be willing to take on the responsibility?"

"Of course," Petyr agreed while a look of satisfaction. "Mr. Templeton and I would be honored to watch the town."

"But only until I return," Jon reminded him.

"Well of course," Petyr agreed, his agreement flowing too smoothly for Jon's taste. "Until you return."

"So there are no objections?" the mayor asked looking around the room and then between Jon and Petyr. He almost seemed confused by the ease at which this had gone. Jon knew it was only going easy because he had talked to the men loyal to him prior to the meeting. He had made it clear to them that if they couldn't go along with him and Grenn going alone, then it was best they not show up tonight.

"Well then it's settled. Grenn, Jon, I wish you the best of luck and safe travels," the mayor said.

"Thank you sir," Jon said shaking his hand and then leaving the church. Grenn caught up to him a moment later.

"So we really just accepting this? Just you and me riding out at first light to meet our fate?" Grenn asked.

"I'm hoping the only people meeting their fates will be the Boltons. I'm choosing to have faith that the other towns in the area will do the right thing."

"I suppose someone has to." They walked down the street until they caught sight of Sansa waiting for him outside of High Garden. Her face seemed ashen and she was clutching the newspaper. Grenn took one look at her and quickly wished Jon a goodnight, telling him he'd met him at the livery in the morning.

"So it's done then?" she asked, her voice raw. Jon nodded as she batted away a couple of tears. Jon reached for her but she rebuffed him.

"I hate it when you cry, but we talked about this earlier. I don't want to leave the town with just Baelish's men and I don't want them with me either."

"And what about this?" she said thrusting the paper towards him. "Did you know about this?"

He took the paper from her and scanned the article she was referring to. "I knew some of it. I just didn't see the point in upsetting you more."

"Are you planning to die?" she asked, her voice was a tiny choked whisper and more tears were threatening to fall. Jon looked around, he could tell people were watching them.

"Can we go somewhere and talk about this?"

She nodded and then turned to go into High Garden. He followed her. The place was quiet and still smelled faintly of smoke.

"Most of the girls went over to SV since they have a couple days off. Shae said I can use her room." Jon gave her a confused look. "I – I wanted somewhere we could be fully alone," she said by way of explanation.

They went in Shae's room and closed the door. Sansa turned to him then and waited. "Are you going to answer me?"

"You were serious?" The look on her face told him she was. "I have no plans on dying Sansa."

"But that article… it makes it clear that….." Her voice faltered and she put her head into her hands.

He had seen the article this morning. He had been hoping she won't. He had wanted to go punch the editor after he had read it. Did the man really think it was wise to write an entire article discussing every prior posse that had tried and failed to stop the Boltons? Did he really need to discuss how they had damn near wiped out the last few posses almost in their entirety? Or go into graphic detail that they only ever left one man alive, a man they typically mutilated in some manner, to tell the tale?

"I'm going to come back to you. I promise you that right now," Jon said moving closer to her.

"And what about the curse?" Her voice broke hard over the last syllable.

"Don't," he said placing a hand on either side of her face and looking her in the eyes. "I don't believe in all that nonsense, but there's no need to be inviting more bad luck into this situation." She was breathing heavy now, clearly angry.

She pulled away from him and crossed the room to the vanity. She placed her hands on the table and took a deep breath. She looked at her refection in the mirror for a moment, composing herself and then turned. "You can't go," her voice low and determined. "Not when there is clearly something dangerous close by."

"Sansa."

"You can't just abandon the town. This is your home. These are your people. You can't just leave them, that's not who you are."

He stepped closer to her, hoping he could calm her down. "I'm not abandoning the town," he said, keeping his voice steady and calm. "This is the best way to keep it safe. You know that deep down."

"You're abandoning me!" she cried and then launched herself into his arms, the tears now pouring out.

"No, no I'm not," he assured her as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "You're a part of me. You're my home. I will come back to you," he promised her once more. "I swear it."

"I want to believe you," she sobbed. "I do, but that's not how it works. Not for the people I love."

He held her while she sobbed, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Eventually the tears slowed and she started to kiss her way up his neck and down his jaw before he tipped his chin to allow her access to his lips. Their mouths fused together and a fire lit in both of them. They had shared plenty of kisses before, but this was different. It was more raw, more desperate and passionate. It only took a couple of minutes before they were sprawled on the bed. Their hands tangling in each other's hair and clothes the way their tongues tangled in each other's mouths.

He wasn't sure how, but several minutes later they were both just in their underclothes. He pulled back and looked at her, his hand cupping her cheek. "I'm coming back. There's no need to rush this," he whispered. His body begged to differ as she shifted against him.

"We both know there is no guarantee of that."

"Sansa."

"If this is it, if this is all we'll ever have, well I want all of you. Not some, not most, all Jon. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said and kissed her again. Shortly thereafter she untangled herself from him and crossed the room to lock the door.

Jon sat on edge of the bed as she came back towards him. He took her hand and drew her near, his cheek resting against her stomach for a moment. "You're certain? What about what we talked about before?" he asked as he tipped his head back and looked up at her.

"Don't worry about that. There are ways to….. just don't worry about it. And yes, I'm certain." She ran her hands through his curls and smiled faintly at him. He nodded slightly before lifting her camisole and kissing her stomach. She pulled the camisole off and he marveled at the sight of her breasts. He kissed them gently and she shivered. He took his time kissing and licking her nipples, telling her she was beautiful. At some point she had crawled in his lap, straddling him, her body grinding against his in the most delicious way.

The small moans and groans she gave were driving him wild. Any reservations or restraint had faded. Shortly after she pulled back until she was standing once more and then placed his hands on her bloomers and began to untie them. He felt her breath catch just the tiniest bit as he went to lower them.

"We can stop," he whispered looking up at her. Every other part of his body protested as he said the words.

"I don't want to stop. It's just nerves…" Her cheeks were turning the most wondrous shade of pink.

"We don't have to," he said again. "It can wait till I return, till we marry."

She smiled at that but then the smile faded. "No, no it can't wait. What if…"

"Sansa….." He rose to his feet and held her gaze. He didn't want her to regret this, and he didn't want her making the decision under duress. He told her this.

"I love you. I want to be with you," she reassured him as she kissed him. "I told you, I want all of you. I don't want to stop."

"Are you sure? It might hurt some."

She nodded. "I trust you."

"Alright. I'll do my best to be gentle. And if you want me to stop at any point, you just say the word."

Sansa twirled her fingers in her hair and bit at her lower lip before she nodded.

He kissed her softly and gently. "I swear on my life, we can stop if you need." She gave him a look that told him she didn't appreciate him promising on that. He kissed her again and then he placed his hands back on her waist and dragged the bloomers down her legs. She stepped clear of them and he took in the sight of her and smiled in wonder.

"What?" she asked as she blushed again.

"You're just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen is all."

He stepped back and pulled her into the bed with him. They laid down and kissed some more. It had taking some coaxing but eventually she had let him put his mouth on her. When he thought she was ready, he had gotten off the bed and taken his drawers off.

Sansa had asked if she could touch it and he had let her. When she was done, and he had thought he was getting close to dying, he had gotten back in bed with her.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she breathed as he settled his body between her thighs. "I love you."

"I love you too. As I said, it might hurt," he warned as he began to push inside her. He was half way in when her breath caught. "I'm sorry," he breathed and drew back a bit.

"No, keep going," she pleaded, sliding her hand down his back in an attempt to encourage him forward.

He let out a breath and then began to push back in a little further. He knew a moment later he had broken her maidenhead because she dug her nails into his shoulder and sucked in a sharp breath. He waited while she adjusted and then finally fully settled himself inside her.

"You doing ok?"

"Uh huh," she murmured breathlessly.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to move." She nodded and he waited until she started to rock her hips and then he began to move.

He moved in and out of her, increasing the speed and pressure as she requested. He couldn't get enough of her and he wondered why he had tried so hard to resist her earlier. She eventually wrapped her legs around him, seemingly in an attempt to lock him and bind him to her. He told her again that he loved her as sweat began to pool on his lower back and he could feel their releases nearing.

It took a few more minutes, but eventually she broke apart beneath him, spending him over the edge right after her.

Afterwards she lay beneath him, looking up at him with a shy smile and his seed spilled across her stomach. Later when she had cleaned off, they lay tangled together in Shae's bed.

"Thank you," she said looking up at the ceiling.

He kissed her forehead and then tipped her face so she had to look at him. "I didn't hurt you too much did I?"

"No. You were wonderful….. Do you regret giving into me?"

"No, never. Though I must admit I never pictured the first time we'd be together like this, it'd be in a brothel."

She laughed then, a true deep joyous laugh. One he hadn't heard in a while and realized he had missed.

"I'm going to come home to you Sansa," he murmured kissing her again. "I promise."


	23. Chapter 23

The posse had been gone for a couple of weeks now. The day after Jon and Grenn left, the heat had moved back in. It was technically autumn now, but that seemed to matter little in the desert. Between the heat and her concern for Jon, Sansa started to wonder if she would ever get a full night's sleep again.

She was still proud of herself for the way she had held it together the day he had left. They had spent the entire night together. Having sex twice more before the morning. She was honestly surprised they had slept at all with the way they had clung to each other.

They had rose just before dawn, dressed and made their way to the livery in the faint pink pre-dawn light so he could meet Grenn. They hadn't said much as they had walked down the street hand in hand.

"You better keep your promise to me," she had whispered in his ear as he had embraced her for the final time.

"I have every intention of just that," he kissed her again and then let her go so he could mount Ghost. "Ready?" he said turning to Grenn who nodded back. "Alright then," Jon said as he took up his reins and Ghost started to ease forward.

"Jon!" she called out suddenly, making him stop and look back at her once again. "Promise me, just one more time, please." Jon glanced at Grenn who tipped his hat to Sansa and then rode his horse down the street to give them one last moment alone.

He dismounted Ghost and took her hands in his. "I promise you I'll come back to you. And I'll do you one better, I promise you that when I return, well I'm going to ask for your hand."

She had inhaled sharply and then thrown her arms around him and kissed him all over his face. He laughed and stilled her with one soft deep kiss. He released her hand and reached up to remove his army ID tags from around his neck and then placed them in her hand. She met his eyes as he closed her fingers around them. "Until I return," he said before kissing her hand, giving her one final nod and then swung back up on to Ghost.

Their gazes held and then she nodded and gave him her bravest smile. He matched it before turning Ghost's head and kicking him into a trot. He had turned back one final time and waved to her. She had raised her hand and waved back.

She wore his tags around her neck now, on a chain that kept them close to her heart. When she awoke at night from a bad dream she found she would instantly reach for them to calm herself down. Sometimes she was almost embarrassed by how attached she was to them.

She fingered the chain now as she walked down the street towards her shop. Things had been quiet in town since he'd left. He had sent her two telegrams in the past two weeks. One telling her he'd arrived in Gleeson at the muster point, and another a few days back, telling her they were headed out of Gleeson in pursuit of a lead on the Boltons. She knew he was giving her limited information, whether to protect the mission or to not worry her she wasn't sure. Anything sent via telegraph was easily told to others and she knew he had never really trusted Pycelle. She had done her best to keep that news quiet, discussing it only with those she could trust. But other people had connections and got their own information. She'd heard other rumors around town, that the posse was likely headed north, off into mountains near Dragoon. That had made her even more afraid for him. A fight in the open plain was one thing, a battle in the mountains where there was ample cover and a high ground advantage for whoever was there first, was quite another.

She entered her shop and set her supplies down on the counter. The laundry side of the business was doing quite well. She had gotten back the accounts she had previously lost. She was grateful for it because it gave her less time to fret and worry over Jon. She had initially thought the Winterfell fire might keep people away. After all, it was yet another reminder of the Stark curse. But in the end, it seemed that convenience and access had trumped any concerns or misgivings the miners and other townspeople possessed.

She was still working on growing the tailoring side of the business though. She had tried her best to make the shop as inviting as possible. She finally finished sewing several sample dresses that hung on a rack near the window. The mirrors she had ordered for the tailor layout near the back had just finally come in two days ago. Gendry had been nice enough to install them next to the measuring platform.

She loved the shop, especially during the day when the sun streamed in through the large front window that had recently been stenciled with "Little Bird Laundry and Tailoring." But some nights she did miss the quiet of Winterfell. It had been a few weeks and yet she still was not entirely use to the late night sounds of the town. She was rather certain Arya still struggled with it some nights too.

She looked up as the bell on the door tinkled and saw Brienne entering with a sack of laundry over her shoulder. "You know I would've come and got that," Sansa said in greeting. Brienne had just gotten her cast off and her gait was still in process of returning to normal.

"I know, but I needed to take a walk," she responded, annoyance laced in her tone. Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Was doing the monthly alcohol order. I swear sometimes Pod doesn't even look to see where he set the old bottle before opening a new one. The waste makes me batty."

"It's been busy lately. Last time I was in there he looked like he might drop dead on his feet."

"Still no excuse for his waste. So, any new word from Jon?"

"No. I wasn't expecting any though, not if they are up in the Dragoons like people are saying."

"True enough."

Sansa tagged the bag and handed Brienne the ticket stub. "Be ready Friday."

"Sounds good. You and Arya still planning to come by for dinner tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Alright, see you then," Brienne said and then left.

Sansa went back to putting away the supplies from the store. Movement outside the window caught her eye and she looked up. People seemed to be moving up the street. She moved closer to the window but was unsure where they all might be headed. She opened the door and stepped out on to the sidewalk.

"Hey, what's all the fuss?" she asked a man walking by.

"Someone said there's news about the posse and the Boltons," the man answered. "People are going over to the Western Union for an announcement or something."

Sansa muttered a thank you and went back inside to grab her keys. She stepped back outside and locked the door.

"Sansa!" She looked up to see Marge coming down the sidewalk towards her. Sansa stood and waited for her friend to reach her. They exchanged a look. Sansa bit the inside of her lip as she held Marge's gaze. After a moment Marge nodded and took Sansa's hand and started to lead her down the street. It took Sansa a moment to make her legs work. Her whole body felt heavy. The closer they got to the crowd, the heavier she felt. By the end Marge had an arm wrapped around her waist and was guiding her through the crowd.

Petyr was standing in front of the office, a telegram in his hand. He saw Sansa and gave her the most pitying look. Whatever he was about to announce, it likely wasn't good. Sansa closed her eyes forcing the tears to stay inside. When she opened them, he was looking out over the gathering crowd. He seemed to be waiting for the tide of people to ebb.

"Well you going to tell us what's going on or not!?" she heard Tormund call out over the other voices in the crowd. A few others murmured his sentiment.

Petyr cleared his throat and waited for a hush to fall. Sansa felt Marge squeeze her left hand just as Sam and Theon slipped in to the right side of her. "We've received a report regarding the posse. It would appear the mayor and I made a wise decision in not sending too many of our own off on that fool's errand." Sansa began to open her mouth to protest but she instantly felt Theon tug her arm, hard. Sansa turned her head sharply and he shook his head.

"Don't," he whispered. She tore her gaze from him as Petyr began to speak again.

"I have here a telegram from the army. It reads as follows: Attention all citizens in the south of the Arizona Territory. The recent posse seeking the Boltons has been destroyed. There are no known survivors. Location of the Bolton Gang is currently unknown. If encountered, please send information to the attention of Lt. Seaworth at Ft. Huachuca. Regards Col. S Baratheon."

The crowd began to murmur. The main concern seemed to be if there was any chance the Boltons would be headed this way.

Sansa stood in a daze. She felt as if she was outside of herself watching the scene. Petyr had to be wrong, it had to be a lie. Jon had promised he'd return. He had promised.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, raising his voice over the crowd. People quieted quickly. "Did you just say there were NO survivors reported?" Sam asked.

"I did," Petyr said, his eyes fixed on Sansa. He wore an expression of such pity, but she could see a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. She turned and began to push through the crowd, when she reached the back she started to run down the street as tears starting to stream down her cheeks. She had to get out of here, she needed to cry alone, but more than that she needed to get away from Petyr. Because she knew if she stayed there, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from clawing his eyes out.

xxxxxx

 _"What is it exactly you wish to accuse me of my dear?" Petyr asked. His eyes were narrowed and regarding her with suspicion._

 _"I'm not accusing you of anything," she said evenly. She could see his mind was working something out. She held her breath and waited._

 _"You've changed. I suppose the trauma over losing… him has effected you deeply."_

 _"I don't want to discuss Jon with you." She could feel tears starting to form. "That's not why I came here."_

 _"And yet you stormed in here not five minutes ago hollering that it's my fault he's dead."_

 _"I shouldn't have come here." She turned to leave, her hand hurt terribly from the way she was gripping the small gun in her pocket._

 _"At some point you need to stop blaming me for his death. I've tolerated it up till now because I knew you needed someone to blame, just like I did after your mother died. But I am not your enemy and I didn't kill him. That was the Boltons. You need to remember that."_

 _She closed her eyes and then turned back around. "You sent him and Grenn to that posse alone," she said before she could stop herself. "You knew what you were doing."_

 _"That was a town decision. That was Jon's decision. He could've pushed for more men. He could've asked those loyal to him to go. He chose not to. I think the person you're really angry with here is him."_

 _"That's not it, that's not it at all."_

 _"So you're not angry with him?"_

 _"Of course I am!" she exploded. "He promised to come back and he broke that promise! But that doesn't excuse what you did!"_

 _"And you're willing to hang to get the justice you think he deserves? How terribly romantic."_

 _"Stop talking!" She pulled the gun and fired. Petyr dropped to his knees and stared at her, fury painting his face for a moment before a wicked smile crossed it._

 _"Don't fret dear. I forgive you. After all, soon enough we can be together forever."_

 _The door to his office exploded inward and she felt the shotgun go off before she heard it._

Sansa jolted awake. She lay in the bed gasping for breath. She had had some version of this dream at least three times now. It always ended with her dying as Petyr told her they would be tied together for eternity.

It had been a few days and she had let the sadness take her, deciding to confine herself to her room. She had spent most of the last two days sleeping and weeping. She hated the dreams of Petyr, but sometimes she had dreams of Jon and the future they would never share, and she clung to those fiercely.

As she lay there wondering if she would be able to go back to sleep, she realized she heard hushed voices in the other room.

"She's taken it really badly as you can imagine. I mean I know it's normal, but I don't know, this seems different," she heard Arya say.

"I can respect her need to mourn," Brienne said. "But she can't just lay in there and hope to die. She's stronger than that. We all know that."

"We do," Arya said. "But right now I don't know if she does."

"Enough of this. I'm going in there," she heard Margaery say.

There was a quick knock at the door and then it opened. Margaery entered her bedroom followed by Brienne. Arya stood in the doorway looking at Sansa. Her expression pleading. It was clear she wanted Sansa to listen to the other women.

She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for one of them to speak. After several awkward moments she finally gave in. "What do you want?" she asked scanning each of their faces.

"We're worried about you," Marge began.

"You can't just lay in here and hope to die. I know it's hard, but this – this is unacceptable," Brienne said. Her words were harsh, but Sansa knew they were said with concern.

Marge came and sat next to her on the bed. "Maybe it would do you good to be around other people for a spell. I was thinking you and Arya could come stay over with me and Loras at High Garden for a few days."

The last night she had shared with Jon flashed through her mind. "No!" she said more harshly then she meant to. Marge and Brienne exchanged a rather worried look. "I – I – It's…." she began, fumbling for her words. Her right hand fluttered up and started to fiddle with Jon's army tags. "I just don't think – It's not necessary for us to stay there." Marge looked at her for another moment and then a look of understanding broke over her as she took in Sansa's fingers on the tags.

"Of course. It was just a passing thought."

"I'm sorry," Sansa whispered. She felt bad for possibly offending Marge. Marge smiled sadly and put her arm around Sansa's shoulders to reassure her it was alright.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Marge whispered in her ear. "I get it. Memory is a powerful thing." Marge looked away. A couple moments passed and then Sansa took note that Marge was staring at tin type of Robb propped up on top of her dresser.

"What are they saying out there?" Sansa asked after a moment.

"Jon was well liked, people are sad, and a bit frightened as you can imagine," Brienne answered.

"And the curse? Are they saying this is my fault?"

Marge and Brienne exchanged a quick glance. "Just the same old bitches that always say something. No one that matters blames you," Marge said.

"But I blame me. I wish I were dead now too. It's my fault he stayed here, it's my fault he's dead."

"You don't mean that," Marge said.

"Sansa, please," Arya said, her voice full of desperation. Sansa turned and looked at her sister, who up until this moment had just been watching the exchange silently. "You are all I have left and I – I need you." For the first time in a long time, Arya looked on the edge of tears.

Sansa realized for probably the first time since she'd heard the news, that she was not the only one mourning Jon. And Arya was right, she did need her. They needed each other.

Sansa took a deep breath and got off the bed and crossed the room to her sister. They were right, she couldn't just lay here and die. Life went on, Marge was proof of that. She and Arya were proof of that. They had carried on before, they could do it again. She could do it again. Jon won't want her to just give up. Arya needed her to not give up.

She opened her arms and Arya stepped into them and they embraced.

"You're right," she said after a long moment. They released each other and Sansa turned back to the other two women. "You're all right."


	24. Chapter 24

A few days prior

"Summer never really let's go here does it?" Jon asked as he removed his hat and wiped his brow.

"It does. Come December, January, the nights can get so cold you'll be able to see your breath. The desert's a place of extremes," Denner answered as they rode on.

"You fought much in the mountains?" Denner asked him several minutes later as the rock formations began to rise higher around them.

"Not really. I was mostly in the plains," Jon answered.

"Then you're in for a whole new experience."

They had left Gleeson yesterday, riding north towards the Dragoon Mountains. Last night they had camped at the edge of the foothills. They were here because of a report they'd received a couple days ago from an Apache hunting party. They reported seeing a large group of men heading into the mountains a couple days further back while checking their beaver traps. Everyone assumed it had to be the Boltons. The main thing that made Jon uneasy was that it was unclear from the reports how many men were in the group. Some reports had it as low as twenty, some as high as fifty. There were about forty men in the posse, so for now there was no way to know if they were under or overmatched.

"Did you know the rebs fought the Apache here during the war?" Jon shook his head in response. "Yeah, it was right here in this mountain range. As if the rebs didn't have enough problems with the union, damn fools thought they'd take on the Indians as well," Denner told Jon, shaking his head. "Come to think of it, maybe we should've tried to get us an Apache guide. Not that they would probably want to help us, given recent history. Not that it matters, too late for that now anyways."

"I suppose so," Jon agreed.

"Denner!"

They looked up as the head of the posse, the Gleeson sheriff, Alister Thorne, rode up alongside of them. Jon didn't care for the man. Thorne was stubborn and hot headed; rarely was he open to suggestion. Regardless of his true feelings, Jon did his best to try and show him the respect his position warranted.

"I need you to ride up ahead, find us a place to camp for the night," Thorne said to Denner.

"Yes sir," he answered and then looked at Jon. "Pleasure chatting with you as always Snow." He spurred his horse on and left Jon with Thorne. He and Jon made eye contact for the briefest moment before Thorne kicked his horse and quickly rode off towards the head of the column.

Jon sighed. He had found this past week with the posse to be strangely familiar. Probably because it reminded him of being in the army, taking orders from someone he didn't have full confidence in. As a result he and Thorne had already butted heads. But Thorne had put him in his place quickly, pointing out that this was his first posse, he was the newest lawman here and he'd only brought one man with him. He made it clear to Jon that given all that, he shouldn't expect to have much pull or sway with him or anyone else here. So as much as it had pained him, he had resolved before they left Gleeson that he would do his best to stay out of Thorne's way and allow him to lead. He tried to remind himself of this again as he thought back to the dust up they had had this morning. But now that they were headed into the mountains, he had to wonder it the older man might have a point, as much as he hated to concede that. He didn't have much experience with fighting in this type of terrain after all, and given that, he doubted any of these old grizzled men would actually listen to him.

Jon was looking around at the canyon walls that were rising higher and higher, when Grenn came up alongside him.

"So I take it he still doesn't think a column of forty some horses, headed into the pass will draw attention huh?" Grenn asked as they watched all the dust the horses were kicking up swirl into the air.

"No. I suggested splitting everyone up into three or four scout parties again this morning. I was told I know nothing of how a posse works and then was reminded there's strength in numbers."

"If that's true then why didn't he wait for the unit that was said to be coming from Huachuca?"

It was a good question. When they had arrived in Gleeson there was word that the army had finally decided to mobilize and join the hunt. Word was the Boltons had hit a payroll train on the way to Douglas the day prior, causing the railway to push for the army to response. Which was likely the reason the Boltons had retreated into the mountains. But information traveled slowly, and it wasn't completely clear as to when the army would arrive. Thorne had given that as his reason not to wait on them.

"If I had to guess, he doesn't want to share the glory. He's hoping to catch the gang before the army can get anywhere near this." This was an opinion he would only ever share with Grenn.

"How many of us are going to get killed in his pursuit of glory?" Grenn muttered under his breath.

"He's got a lot of experience, perhaps he's smarter than we think," Jon said in a lame attempt to reassure his deputy. Grenn shot him a look that told him he didn't believe a word he'd just said, and he knew Jon didn't either.

They rode on for several minutes in silence before entering into a narrow pass that would require them to go single file. "Fish in a fucking barrel," Grenn muttered from behind him.

They rode for another couple of miles before setting up camp for the night. After dinner all the sheriffs met to discuss strategy for tomorrow.

"I can all but guarantee you the Boltons are held up in the area by the Stronghold," Thorne said as they looked over an old map of the area.

"Seems a bit obvious. I can't imagine they'd make it that easy to find them," Jon said before he could stop himself. Thorne looked up at him and glared.

"I'm going to cut you some slack Snow, being as you keep forgetting that you are not from here, but there is no where else to really go in these hills. It makes the most sense. If their plan is to hold up and wait us out, there's no better place. Cochise himself had a thousand Apache living up there for years, it's more than enough to sustain a few Boltons."

"I understand that. But based on everything I've heard about them, well it doesn't seem their way to simply go on the defensive and just wait on us," Jon said doubling down. "Perhaps we should wait for the army before we go any further. If they are up there, well then they're fortified and they'll have several advantages over us."

Thorne sighed heavily. "I'm going to remind you one more time. You are not in charge here. If you survive for as many years as I have, and your town suffers as much as mine has, then you can run your posse anyway you see fit. But until then, this is my command. You're welcomed to turn tail and head back home anytime. Though don't be expecting any help from us in the future." Their eyes stayed locked for a long charged moment. "Now can we get back to it?"

Jon set his jaw as the other men looked back and forth between him and Thorne. "I apologize for the interruption," he gritted out a moment later. There was no making Thorne listen. He just hoped that he wasn't about to let him lead them to their deaths.

xxxxxxx

The following morning dawned hot and clear and they broke camp as soon as the sun rose. They mounted up and headed further into the mountains. Thorne's plan was to ride until they reached the stronghold and then set up a perimeter for a siege of some sort. His whole plan seemed to hinge on the hope that the Boltons would be intimated by the show of force and ask for a parlay. Jon thought the whole thing foolish, but he resigned himself once more to following orders.

As they rode everything seemed quiet. The men weren't really talking, the birds were even quiet. A few of the horses seemed uneasy as well. Jon missed Ghost. The poor thing had split a hoof on the way to Gleeson, and so he had decided to leave him in the livery there. He wished he had him now though. Ghost was an intuitive creature, Jon trusted his instincts more than Thorne's.

Someone indicated they were only a couple more miles from the Stronghold as they fell into a more compact column. They were passing through an opening that let out into a small narrow valley. The valley made Jon uncomfortable and the back of his neck began to prick. The valley was long enough that the whole posse would be able to fit in it at one time, but it was also narrow at both ends. Escape would be rather difficult. He didn't need to know much about mountain warfare to know that if the Boltons were looking for a place to attack them, this would be it. On instinct Jon drew his gun.

"The air's too still," Grenn said as he drew alongside him.

"No animals either," Jon answered back. He looked back over his shoulder. Everyone in the posse was now in the valley. His skin began to prick more. "Draw your guns," he ordered the men near him.

Grenn drew without question, a couple other men gave him an odd look. "Do it!" Jon yelled. "Something's wrong here!" He heard Thorne start to yell something, but he never got to finish. Because right as he began to turn his horse back in Jon's direction, some of the rock formations along their flanks exploded.

The scene erupted into chaos. Gunfire began to fill the air as smoke and falling rock debris obscured everyone's vision. Horses reared back, dumping riders either from fear or wounds. There was yelling and screaming that filled the air as well.

As some of the smoke cleared, horses and men rushed in from the flanks. Jon saw the man to the side of him fly off his horse as a shotgun blast tore through his chest and sprayed him in blood. Another blast went off and Jon's head snapped to the rear of the group. To his horror he could see the way they had come was now nearly blocked off.

He could still hear Thorne attempting to shout orders, but it seemed to be doing little good. Jon turned and started to ride hard, firing his gun as he went and managed to shot two men off their horses. He'd lost track of Grenn in the chaos. He could only hope that his deputy would make it out alive.

The smoke cleared for a moment and he could see the north end of the valley was now heavily fortified by men and horses. There would be no escape that way for the moment. He wove his horse back in towards the main melee.

His revolver was empty so he shoved it back in the holster and pulled the shotgun from the saddle holster. He got off one shot and then he felt something explode into the side of his horse. The horse let out what he could only describe as a scream, and then he buckled. He flung Jon hard to the side as he toppled. Jon tried to brace himself, but it was no use, they were falling too fast. The last thing he felt was his body slamming into the hard desert floor.

xxxxxx

He opened his eyes at the sound of a single gunshot. It was followed a minute later by another one. His vision was a bit blurry. He had no idea how long he had been out, but based on the sounds around him it would seem that the main fire fight had ended. He went to get up but found he couldn't. It took him a moment to realize that he was partially pinned by his horse. Despite his earlier want for the horse, he now thanked god that he hadn't ridden out on Ghost. He turned his head slightly and saw the Bolton men walking among the bodies, occasionally someone would laugh and fire a shot into a man. He wasn't sure what to do. He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the blinding headache and tried to think. There was no way he'd be able to get himself out from under his horse without drawing their attention, though he was rather certain playing dead likely wouldn't save him either.

He opened his eyes and glanced around again. He had lost sight of the men. He let out a breath and then he heard a noise right in front of him. His eyes snapped to the other side of the horse.

"Well aren't you the lucky one?" a man with dark hair and pale eyes asked him as he placed a booted foot on the stomach of the horse.

Jon groaned, the additional weight adding to the pain he felt in his leg. He didn't answer the man's question.

"Looks like he's the last one alive," another man said coming to stand alongside the first.

"Is he now? So where is you hail from sheriff?" the first man asked turning his attention back on Jon. "What lovely little town should I go thank for you being here?"

Jon set his jaw and glared at the man. Not that he would've answered him anyways, he doubted he'd be able to talk due to the pain he was in right now.

"Protecting your people to the last? How terribly noble. Tell you what, let's play a game. I'm going to do something to you. When I'm done, you can decide if you want to tell me your information. Now if you decide you still don't want to, well then I'm going to do something worse." The man pulled his knife and walked around the horse. "Unfortunately for you, this game is really only fun for me."

Despite the pain, Jon started to try and pull himself out from under the horse. "Hold him," the man ordered. The other man came around and pinned Jon down by his shoulders. "Last chance. Where are you from?" the first said again.

"Go to hell," Jon spat, finally finding his voice.

"You got gumption. I'll give you that," the man said and then ripped Jon's shirt opened and proceeded to carve something into his chest. It hurt like hell but somehow he managed not to cry out.

"So?"

"Go to hell," Jon repeated breathing hard.

The man sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "I did tell you the rules of this game, right?" Jon stared back at the man with a ferociousness he hadn't known he possessed until now.

"Ramsay! Time to go!" an older man ordered as he approached on horseback.

"But I'm not done yet."

"Yes you are. You know we always leave one alive to tell the tale. He's the last one, so let's get a move on. Umber said he saw riders coming from the south, might be army, might be Apache, but either way we need to clear out." The two men looked intensely at each other for a moment before the younger finally bowed his head in submission.

He turned his focus back to Jon then. "I told you you were lucky," Ramsay hissed at him. "But know this, if I ever see you again, you'll wish you had died here with the rest of these fools."

The other man released him as Ramsay stared down at him. "Ramsay! Now!" came the call from the older man. Jon saw Ramsay's jaw clench and tick before he finally began to walk away. Jon pushed himself up slightly despite feeling extremely light headed, and watched as they mounted their horses and rode off.

When they were gone he laid back down. He could feel the blood running down the side of his chest. He looked up and saw the buzzards had begun to circle. He closed his eyes and thought of Sansa. He pictured her the way he'd seen her their last night together. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, gloriously naked and brushing her beautiful copper hair. She had looked up at him with her bright blue eyes and gave him a soft smile when she realized he had been watching. She had started to hum as she continued to brush her hair. She seemed so real now. Out of instinct he reached out to touch her as he had that night, but before he could feel her soft skin on his fingers, the darkness consumed him.


	25. Chapter 25

Sansa startled awake, the sounds of the gunshots in her dream fading away as she realized where she was. She had continued to have vivid reoccurring dreams in the weeks that had followed the announcement of Jon's death. In this one she was riding Lady hard through the desert, chasing after Jon and Ghost. She could never catch them. They were always just out of range of her voice. She knew this because they never slowed no matter how hard she screamed or begged. The dream always ended with Jon disappearing over the horizon just as the sound of gunshots would jolt her awake.

She lay there for a few moments letting her eyes adjust. The room was tinged with the faint pinkish grey hue of the coming dawn. She glanced at the clock, it was just after six in the morning. She knew she won't be able to fall back asleep, so she decided to get up.

She dressed, went downstairs and outside to the outhouse. The town was quiet this time of the day, it was probably the only time of the day it was this quiet. She paused to take it in, her eyes opening a moment later when she thought she heard voices carrying over the slight morning breeze. She wasn't sure why, but instead of going back inside, she let herself out the back of the fence and made her way along the backside of the businesses in the direction of the voices.

"It's not possible. There's far too many." She recognized Petyr's voice instantly.

"So I'll send some to Mexico." This was not a voice she knew.

"It still won't work -"

"It's not your decision." There was a finality in the man's tone.

There were several moments of silence and Sansa thought perhaps they had gone away. She turned to head back home but then Petyr's voice made her stop.

"This was not what I had arranged with your fa…" He began before being interrupted by shouting and the sound of breaking glass from inside the Triple P. It was quickly followed by a girl's scream. "For god's sakes!" Petyr snarled. "Can you not at least control them?!"

Sansa stayed where she was, listening to the raised voices and screaming until she heard the door slam. She turned then and made her way quickly home. She wasn't sure who Petyr had been talking to, nor what exactly they had been discussing, but she did know it made her uneasy.

xxxxx

The following morning, she again awoke with a start, but this time it wasn't due to a dream. There had been a rumble, much like thunder, that had pulled her awake. She sat up just in time to see the window was rattling slightly in its frame.

Her door opened and Arya entered the room. "Did you hear that?" Arya asked pushing her hair from her sleepy face.

"I did," Sansa said getting out of bed and going to look out her window. She scanned the horizon. "I don't see any clouds," she said turning back to Arya.

"Strange. Maybe someone took a team of horses by at a clip."

"Seems early, but maybe."

"I'm going to put the coffee on," Arya said and turned to go back into the main room.

A few minutes later they heard a commotion from the front side of the building. They went into Arya's room and looked out the window. The street below was filling with people, they seemed to be rushing towards the south end of town.

"Get dressed," Sansa told her. They dressed quickly and went downstairs and out on to the street. They joined the flow of people headed south. There were mentions of the mine and an explosion. They exchanged uneasy looks, both clearly recalling the morning several months back that had claimed Robb.

They moved to the side of the street as a wagon full of shovels and pick axes rumbled towards them. "Gendry!" Arya called out.

He slowed the wagon but didn't stop. They quickened their pace to walk alongside him. "What's going on?" Sansa asked.

"There was an explosion out at the mine," he answered.

"How bad is it?" Arya asked.

"Not sure yet," Gendry answered. "I gotta get this over there to help with the rescue."

"Of course," Sansa said and they fell back as he snapped the reins to speed up the horses. "We should go to the pavilion and see what we can help with. Come on."

They made their way to the pavilion where most of the other women were gathering. They began to make bandages and other supplies to help treat the wounded that would hopefully be pulled from the mine. Sansa did her best to help, but the memories of Robb and Jon's death threatened to overwhelm her. It didn't help that some of the women were giving her sideways glances, though they were all polite enough to not speak of the curse.

The morning unspooled in front of them. The readied supplies remained ready, but the lack of demand for them was causing the panic level to rise. People talked amongst themselves, trying to remind each other that explosions were common place. Perhaps this one was rather deep and that was why no one had come out yet.

Eventually they turned their attention to preparing food to take out to the rescue workers. Arya managed to talk the butcher into letting her ride out with him. When the food wagons returned, everyone clamored for news.

"It's really bad isn't it?" Sansa asked as Arya made her way over to where she stood near Olenna, Margaery and several of the girls from High Garden.

"Appears there's casualties, though not as many as there could've been," Arya informed them quietly, being mindful that some folks in the pavilion had men in that mine.

"Well how many then?" someone asked. Arya shook her head indicating she wasn't sure.

"Well did they say what happened?" Olenna asked.

"No one's really sure. I guess it happened around the shift change, which they're saying was lucky 'cause there was less people down there. But anyone in charge seems to be missing. So for now it seems that anyone that might know exactly how it happened is either dead or stuck in the mine."

"This is bad, this is very bad," Olenna said. She was visually agitated. "Two major explosions in under a year. They're liable to just close the mine."

"Grandmother," Marge said softly trying to comfort her, "There's no need to frighten people."

"No? Are you sure? Because a town with a dead mine is a dead town," Olenna said sharply.

"Now is not the time for this," Brienne cut in sharply as several of the women whose husbands worked in the mine turned to look at them. Their fear and grief cut Sansa to the core. She knew their pain all too well.

"Let's go inside for a bit. I think the sun is doing us all in," Sansa suggested.

"The sun's going to be the least of our worries soon enough girls," Olenna said. "Mark my words."

xxxxx

Two days later a group of men rode into town. A rumor spread that they were with IB Mining. It was said they were here to investigate the explosion and to decide if the mine should in fact be reopened. Sansa couldn't recall if they had sent anyone out after the explosion that had killed Robb, but then she had been too busy mourning her brother to pay much attention to such things.

The town was tense, everyone was concerned that the mine might be abandoned. Petyr had been busy trying to reassure everyone that he had it on good authority that the mining company would continue their operation here. A large section of the mine was still in operation after all. The town seemed split on what they believed, with just as many remaining hopeful as believing the mine would be shuttered. A few people even started to voice the idea of leaving town to head for other communities where they knew they could be guaranteed work.

A meeting had been called for the following night. Instead of soothing tension it only seemed to accelerate them. Rumors varied widely. Some were convinced that the mining company just wanted to assure everyone that they had every intention of completely reopening the mine as soon as possible. Others said they planned to announce its closure. Seemed the only thing everyone agreed on was that no one knew for sure.

"So what do you think they've decided?" Sansa asked Marge as they walked towards the church.

"Hard to say. Though clearly I hope they say they plan to reopen it. If not, well we're all going to have to make some difficult decisions."

They fell quiet as they entered the church with the other townspeople. Petyr and the mayor stood up front. Next to them was a man with dark hair and pale eyes. She did not care for the way he seemed to be eyeing her and Margaery. It was almost like a hungry mountain lion. She didn't look away before he made eye contact with her and attempted what appeared to be a to smile. For whatever reason, it made her uncomfortable and she looked away. She pulled Marge and Arya into a bench near the rear to avoid getting any closer to him.

As soon as everyone was seated, the mayor quickly called the meeting to order.

"We called you all here tonight because Mr. Fulton from the mine here would like to make an announcement," the mayor said. "Mr. Fulton, the floor is yours."

"Thank you, sir. Good people of Copper Canyon, thank you all for coming on such short notice," he began. "As he said, I'm Mr. Fulton, here on behalf of IB Mining. Now I realize these last few days have been rather harrowing for y'all, but I want to reassure everyone that we are committed to providing a fair evaluation of the mine's viability." He paused and surveyed the room. "There will be more details to come, but rest assured we will do our best to keep you informed. In the meantime, we thank you for your hospitality."

"Wait! So you're saying the mine might not reopen?" someone asked. "I thought we were here so you could announce it's reopening."

"I can't say just yet what will become of it. It's going to depend on a variety of factors," Fulton answered.

The room exploded into conversation. Sansa looked at Petyr, who looked genuinely shocked. He quickly recovered though and began to try and quite the crowd. After another minute he began banging the gavel repeatedly until silence fell once more.

"Now let's all calm down. Mr. Fulton has assured me they will do everything they can to return the mine to full operation. Closure will be a last resort. Isn't that right?" Petyr was eyeing Fulton fiercely.

Sansa swore Fulton smirked before fully smiling. "Of course."

Most of the people in the room seemed to relax at the news, but Sansa still felt uneasy given the way Fulton and Baelish were glaring at each other.

"Wonderful to hear," Petyr said but the smile did not reach his eyes. Applause filled the room and the two men finally broke from their glares. "Now there is another matter that we need to discuss." Everyone focused on Petyr once more. Petyr glanced at Fulton who gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "We've received another telegram from the army. As we have women present, I'll spare everyone the grotesque details, but to sum it up, there are some safety concerns in the area we may need to deal with."

The crowd was murmuring again. This was bad for the town. They currently had no sheriff or deputy, and thanks to the incident at the mine, most of the abled bodied men were now either injured, exhausted or possibility planning to leave town.

"What aren't you saying Baelish? What concerns?" someone asked.

"Is it the Boltons?" someone else asked.

"Now let's calm it down. We don't need to be getting everyone worked up, especially –"

"Don't you dare say because women are present. We're all tough enough here. Out with it," Brienne said. There was a murmur of agreement that filled the room.

"Alright then," he said holding up a hand. "There are reports of an incident in Cailin. The army suspects the Boltons, but nothing's been confirmed." Petyr seemed to be hesitating on telling further details. Sansa couldn't help but wonder why. Had what happened there been so terrible that it had even shocked him? She further wondered why Cailin would be a target. It was a tiny town, more like a village, they had no telegraph or sheriff. Why would they draw the attention of the Boltons? These thoughts made her start to fill sick to her stomach. Mentions of the Boltons always made her think about what had happened to Jon, and the anger and grief it brought on always made her feel ill.

"Given these latest developments, I suggest everyone try to stay as close to town as the can. At least until there's further news," Petyr cautioned.

"Perhaps we can also assist in the town's protection," Mr. Fulton said.

"We don't want to put you out. I'm sure you are more than busy with the mine. Plus we need to focus on a long term solution, what with your stay here only being temporary," Petyr said evenly.

"You're not putting us out. We're more than happy to secure the perimeter here," Fulton said, his pale eyes fixed on Petyr. "In fact, I can assure you that we plan to stay as long as we deem it necessary."

"How generous of you," Petyr said after a moment.

"Happy to help. So it's settled then? My men will oversee the reopening of the mine as well as keeping an eye on who goes in and out of the town?"

"Yes, it appears it's settled," Petyr said.

"Wonderful. Now were there any other matters you wished to discuss?" Fulton asked. He and Petyr locked gazes once more, neither seemed particularly happy.

"No, appears that does it," Petyr answered. "For now."

"Alright," Fulton said and turned back to the townsfolk. "Then we thank you all for your time. Have a pleasant evening," He had effectively dismissed everyone. Petyr was always the one that ended these meeting. It wasn't lost on Sansa the way Petyr was glowered at the back of Fulton's head. She wasn't sure she particularly cared for Mr. Fulton, but she did enjoy the way he seemed to be able to put Petyr in his place.

xxxxxx

After the meeting she stood outside the church with Arya, Brienne, Theon, Tormund, Marge and Loras, discussing what had just happened inside.

"So what do you think this incident in Cailin is that Ol' Pete doesn't want to go in detail on?" Tormund asked looking at Sansa.

"How would I know?" she asked suddenly feeling defensive.

"Calm down. I'm not saying you do, but you could. He'd probably tell you," Tormund said.

"That won't be necessary," Brienne said and then shot Tormund a look of annoyance. "And if you want the details you can go ask him yourself."

"Good evening folks," they heard from behind them. The circle turned and opened a bit to admit Fulton.

"Hello," they responded. Sansa felt Theon move a bit closer to her when Fulton's eyes lingered a moment too long.

"I couldn't help but overhear your discussion about that terrible business over in Cailin," he went on.

"You know something of it?" Tormund asked.

"I do. But Baelish doesn't really want the details out there. He thinks it'll scare everyone."

"Is that what –" Tormund began.

"And I gather from your tone you don't agree," Brienne interrupted him and gave him a look that told him he needed to be more careful about what he was saying to strangers about Baelish.

If Fulton was concerned with Tormund's opinion of Petyr he wasn't showing it. "Oh I'm certain it'll scare everyone," he said, his pale eyes gleaming oddly in the lantern light.

"So you planning to tell us, or you just wanting to be a tease like Baelish?" Tormund asked.

"Tormund," Brienne hissed between her gritted teeth.

Fulton chuckled before growing serious. "Ladies, if you'd like to leave, now's your chance."

Sansa knew Brienne would stay. She glanced at Marge who rolled her eyes at his theatrics.

"We're just fine here, thanks," Marge said.

Fulton looked at Marge and smirked. "Tough, I like that." Then he turned back to the rest of the group. "Well for starters, Cailin no longer exists. It was a blood bath." Sansa and Marge exchanged a worried look. "Story that's going 'round is that the Boltons set up camp near there. Guess they were planning on hiding up in the nearby foothills. Ol' Roose took a few men and went in to town looking for supplies. Turns out there was a retired army sergeant that lived there, one that had spent a whole lot of years chasing after the Lannisters, and he remembered Roose Bolton's face all too well." He paused then, surveying the faces of the group. It was easy to see they were all hanging on his every word. "So the sergeant sent his son to ride to the nearest town with a telegraph to send word to the army. But in the meantime he also decided to go ahead and muster every man in town that he could. Based on what they found, looks like they must've decided to ride out and try to take the Boltons on themselves. Bunch of fools," he continued. "Boltons laid waste to them. They found all the bodies in desert near the foothills."

"My god," Margaery said. "All those poor families."

Sansa could hear the blood rushing in her ears. All she could think of was Jon. Arya took her hand and gave her a look that told her they could leave if she wanted. Sansa shook her head ever so slightly. It was destroying her to listen, but she wanted to know the rest of the story.

"Indeed," he continued. "Not that it's meant to bring you comfort, but they didn't suffer their loss long."

"What? What do you mean by that?" Brienne asked, her tone conveying great concern.

"Well based on what they found, seems the Boltons must've decided that the town needed to serve as an example. Apparently, it was Sunday morning when those men rode out and met their fate. Perhaps they thought themselves clever for an attack on the Sabbath…. Anyways, the rest of the town appears to have gathered at church, praying for the safe return of their men I'm sure. As far as anyone can guess, the Boltons must've rode in while they were all still in prayer and chained all the doors."

"No," Marge gasped.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. They burned that church to the ground with everyone inside. Then the razed the rest of the town, shooting anyone that wasn't in the church. Outside of that sergeant's son that rode for help, there are no longer any living residents of Cailin."

No one in the group spoke, in fact it was questionable if anyone was still breathing. Fulton was looking around, his face wore an odd expression. For a moment Sansa wanted to call it suppressed glee, but she knew that had to be wrong, no one could possibly be gleeful telling a story like that. Could they?

"Poor bastards," Tormund said breaking the silence.

"Without a doubt, but I do wish Petyr had told the story in there."

"Why?" Sansa asked horrified.

He looked at her with an expression that for a moment almost made her feel as if he thought her simple. "Simple, because then everyone would know what happens when you try and challenge the Boltons."


	26. Chapter 26

The first thing Jon became aware of was his breathing. The second was the burning pain in his chest. He slowly opened his eyes and felt a wave of panic sweep over him upon the realization that he could not see anything. His hands immediately flew to his face. He let out a ragged breath of relief when he felt something covering his eyes. He carefully started to peel away the layers of cloth. The last of his panic receded as his surroundings started to come into focus.

He found himself in a dimly lit hut and after another moment he slowly pushed himself up into a seated position. He looked around and confirmed he was alone. He then looked down and saw half his chest was covered in leaves and some type of mud paste. He didn't dare touch it for fear it would hurt worse. His leg was splinted and wrapped, he doubted he could stand. His throat was dry but thankfully someone had left a jug of water nearby.

He took a long drink and looked around the hut some more. It took him a moment to pick out the animal skin that covered the opening. He was unsure based on the faint light seeping through if it was sunrise or sunset. He sat trying to decide his next move and reached again for the water jug.

He had just finished his drink when the flap pulled back. He didn't feel afraid. He knew if they meant to harm him or kill him they would have done it already. Surely no one would waste their time trying to heal him if they meant him harm, right?

"You're finally awake," a woman said as she came into the hut.

Jon was surprised and said the first thing that came to his mind. "You speak perfect English."

The women eyed him for a moment, something forlorn passing over her features for the briefest of moments. "I do. It was the language of my original people. The ones I lived with before I came to find myself here."

"And where is here exactly?"

"With the Apache on the Eastern side of the Dragoons. Closest town would be Sunsites I believe. Probably about a day's ride," she told him as she bent down to examine the leaves on his chest. "So you got a name?"

"Jon," he winced as she peeled back some of the leaves. "Do you have any idea how close to Copper Gorge we might be?"

"No. We don't typically venture too far south or west from here these days. We try to keep the mountains in between us and the fort."

"How long have I been here?"

"Some days now. It's amazing we even found you. But the vultures were circling so thick that the hunters went to investigate. You were the only one they found alive. And alive is probably being generous. You were completely unconscious. By the time they got you back here they thought you'd expired. But then you started moaning. You've been burning up with a fever the last few days, but it finally broke last night."

She finished removing everything from his chest and wiped it clean with water. He looked down as she busied herself preparing a paste. There was a "R" clearly carved into the left side of his chest. He shuddered at the memory of being held down while the pale eyed man had carved it into him.

"It got rather infected," she said as she turned back and began to spread the salve on the wound. "Your right leg was broken by the way. The medicine man set it, but hard to say how much damage was done. Guess we'll know for sure once you try and walk in a few weeks."

"A few weeks?!" Jon said alarmed. "I can't stay here for a few weeks. I have to leave. I have to get home."

"You can't walk on that leg right now, and I doubt given the location of the break that you can ride. You need to rest. If you leave now and die you're insulting me," the woman said matter of factly.

"I didn't –"

"You don't just get to leave after all the effort I've put in saving you. When you're stronger you may go, but not before then. You understand me?"

"So am I a prisoner here?" he asked harshly.

"No. But I will not allow you to just leave and die. There is a reason we found you and a reason you survived. I will not have you just shitting on the gods' will. And neither will the tribe."

Jon stared at her for a moment, the set of her eyes and jaw told him she had no intention of reconsidering her position on the matter. He tried to move his leg and the pain stole his breath. The woman sighed and shook her head at him. He knew then he had to relent, she had a point, he couldn't cross the desert in his current condition.

"As you wish then," he said when his breath returned. She nodded and turned to begin building a fire. "I suppose I should thank you," he added after another moment, "appears I owe you my life."

"Think nothing of it. I only do as our gods command."

She finished her work and then stood as she prepared to leave. She told him she would return in a little while with food. "Wait," Jon said and she stopped and turned back to him. "When I'm strong enough, do you want me to try and help you leave here? Find your people?"

A sadness flashed in her eyes and she shook her head as her fingers found their way onto her braid for a moment. "Those people are long dead. These are my people now." And with that she left the hut.

xxxxxx

The next day he and the woman talked a little more. She had told him he should call her Lichii. She explained that she had been with the Apache since she was about eight years old. They had stolen her from her family, appearing in the middle of the night on her family's homestead quite a few years ago. He had asked what had happened to her family. "I think you already know the answer to that question," had been her response. He had asked her again if she wished to leave. She told him once more that these were her people, now and forever. She had no desire to leave.

"I'm respected here. I'm a healer and they value my skills. I don't belong out there the way I do here," she explained.

"But they took you from your family, the people that you loved. That loved you."

"You're naive to assume that my family loved me and that I loved them." Jon had just stared at her after that. There was a coldness to her words that told him he should push the topic no further.

A little over a week later he was able to leave the hut for the first time. She had brought him a crutch and supported his weight from the other side. It was strange to leave the hut and actually see other people. The woman was still the only one he had directly interaction with him. Sometimes he had heard other people nearby, but no one other than her came to the hut. He looked around him now and quickly noticed that the rest of the Apache were regarding him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Some moved away as he approached, as if they were scared to get to close to him.

When they got back to the hut he had asked her why they were reacting to him so. He couldn't imagine his appearance alone would be the cause of such a reaction.

"They aren't sure yet if you're a demon or a god," she explained. "Until they're sure, they're going to keep their distance."

"Can't you just tell them I'm neither? That I'm simply a man?"

"They don't listen to me like that so much right now."

"Why's that?"

"That's not something for you to be concerned about." She had left abruptly after that, not returning until she brought him dinner.

The next time she took him walking the people regarding him much the same, though some of the older boys did venture a bit closer. One even walked alongside him for a few steps to show off to some of the other boys how brave he was.

"They still look at me like they don't quite like having me here," he said when they returned back to the hut.

"Someone found a dead crow this morning. They're taking it as a bad omen. I told you, they're still trying to determine if you're a demon or a god."

"I'm just a man. I wish you'd just convince them of that."

"Are you just man?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just that when they found you, well you should've been dead. And you basically were, and yet here you are alive."

"I'm just a man." He thought of home then. "I'm a man with a lot to live for, but still just a man."

She regarded him for a couple of moments. "You didn't die because of the girl, the red haired girl."

"I'm sorry, but are you talking about you?" Jon asked perplexed.

"No. I played a part of course, but you lived because of the girl back home, the one you love. The one with the red hair. You're a man in love," she said softly. "That's why you didn't die."

Jon startled at her words. He hadn't discussed Sansa with her. He had tried once, but she had seemed disinterested. And after their exchanges about her past, he had decided against discussing anything of personal importance with her. She was so closed off, so he thought it best he was too, less she feel obligated to share things with him she wished not too.

"How'd you know that?"

"There was a girl you kept calling out to during your fever. Sansa, pretty name. You kept saying something about a promise. You kept pleading for her to forgive you."

"Yes, Sansa," he said as he pictured her in his mind. He thought of her standing in the street as he had looked back that final time. "Before I left I promised her I'd come home. I told her I plan to marry her when I get there."

"I'm sure she'll be relieved when she finds out you've kept that promise. Love like that is the only thing that makes life worth living."

"You sound like you speak from experience. Is that why you stayed here all these years?"

"It might've been a reason once. It's not the only or final reason." Her voice told Jon not to ask any further questions. He could tell by her expression that whoever it was she had loved no longer lived and the wound they had left was still raw, perhaps it had been recent.

"I'll do my best to get you home to your love Jon Snow," she said and then got up and left the hut.

His heart hurt some for the woman. There were few pains as crippling as losing someone that you loved so much. He could only imagine the pain his absence was causing Sansa. He was rather certain she probably thought him dead. He needed to get back to her as soon as possible, if for no other reason than ending that agony for her and for him.

xxxxxxxx

"I need you to get me a horse," he told Lichii during his fifth week among the Apache. He had been feeling much stronger and while he knew he could not yet walk to the nearest town he thought perhaps he could ride now.

She examined his leg and then met his eyes. "Not yet. If you push too hard you could reinjure yourself. You could risk losing your leg or never walk again. You need to be patient just a little while longer."

"I'd like to leave," Jon responded in frustration.

"It's not possible just yet. Please trust me."

"Everyone I care about likely thinks I'm dead. I need to get them word that I'm not."

"You will, but you need to wait for the right time."

Two weeks later he had been able to walk mostly on his own. He was certain he could ride. He had told her again that morning that he wished to leave by the end of the week.

"Then you shall. It's time."

"Thank you," he said and felt relief sweep over him. "If there is anything I can ever do to repay you, please let me know."

"When they come for you, please don't tell them about me. I don't want to leave here and I don't want them to make me."

"Who?"

"The army. If they think I'm being held against my will….. My people don't need any more trouble with the army. So please, don't tell them about me."

He had thought the request strange, but he had agreed.

He thought of that strange conversation as he bathed in the river two days later. He planned to leave tomorrow morning whether she was able to get him a horse or not. He didn't love the idea of walking all the way to Sunsites on his newly healed leg, but he would if he had to. He needed to let people know he had lived, he needed to go home.

He stepped from the creek and began to dress. He looked towards the horizon when he thought he heard thunder. He realized quickly it was not thunder but the sound of hooves, an army unit was riding towards him. He turned his head towards the Apache camp and saw people hurrying about.

The unit splashed into the stream and came to a stop right in front of him. The leader of the unit was an older man, a colonel, balding with a beard. "Who might you be and what is your business here?" he asked looking Jon up and down.

"I'm Jon Snow sir. I was just passing through."

The man scanned the village and then looked back at Jon. "You don't appear to have any gear of anything to indicate you are travelling through. These people holding you hostage Mr. Snow?"

"No sir. To be honest they saved me. I was part of the posse that was riding after the Boltons, they found me and nursed me back to health. I am getting ready to depart though."

The man exchanged a look with the man next to him and scoffed. "Impossible," he said looking back at Jon. "That posse was completely wiped out. I should know, it was this unit that found them. We spent two days burying all the bodies out there. It was a putrid mess. They royally fucked up not waited for us in Gleeson. Damn waste of good men."

"I agree. But I'm telling you the truth. You can check the muster if you want. I was the sheriff out of Copper Canyon."

The colonel studied him. Jon could tell he still didn't believe him. Jon removed his shirt and looked back at him. "I was there."

The colonel took in the scar on his chest and after a moment nodded in acceptance. "Do you have any news on where the Boltons went?" Jon asked as he put his shirt back on.

"Initial reports had them headed south. They laid waste to some small town there –"

"What town?" Jon interrupted, his mind flashing back To Ramsay's threat.

"It was tiny. Do you recall?" he asked turning to his lieutenant. The lieutenant shook his head. "Where'd you say you were from again?" the colonel asked turning back to him.

"Copper Canyon."

"It wasn't that. It was with a C but just one word. Anyways, we found Roose Bolton's body there, but the rest of the gang, well they just seem to have vanished. My superiors are convinced they went to Mexico, but I'm not so sure just yet."

"I think he should come with us," the lieutenant said to the colonel. "He might have some valuable information."

The colonel nodded and kept looking at Jon. "You'll come with us now. I'd like to get a debrief from you on what exactly happened out there."

"Yes sir, though I doubt I have anything useful."

"I'll be the judge of that." He shouted for a horse to brought up then.

"If I could have just a moment to say goodbye to –" Jon began.

"Don't bother with that. We need to get moving if we're going to make camp before dark. Plus I doubt any of them would even understand you anyways." Jon went to protest but then thought of the woman's words, that she did not want the army to know she was here. A horse was brought forward and Jon reluctantly mounted it. The unit started to ride off. He lingered, looking back at the Apache camp. Everyone seemed to be hiding. He sighed with regret and then kicked his horse to follow the unit. He rode a few hundred feet when he felt the need to stop and look one last time. He glanced back to see the red haired woman standing on the edge of the creek, slightly hidden by the scrub, her hand lifted in a silent goodbye. Jon gave her a quick nod of thanks and then spurred his horse forward, leaving her to the life she'd chosen.


	27. Chapter 27

A couple of days after the town meeting Sansa made her way down Main Street. She ran over her shopping list in her mind as she headed towards the general store, which caused her to realize too late that she was walking in front of the Triple P. Petyr and Mr. Fulton were standing just inside the entrance. They seemed to be deep in conversation and Petyr did not look pleased. She cursed herself for letting her eyes linger too long when a moment later Petyr happened to glance up at her. He instantly forced a smile and smoothed his hair back.

"We'll finish this later," Petyr said cutting Fulton off and stepping away from him.

"It's finished now. It's working and that's all that matters," Fulton called out to him. He turned his attention towards her for a moment and then tipped his hat before disappearing inside the Triple P.

"Sansa, darling, how are you faring today?" Petyr asked as he stepped into her path.

She sighed internally. It wasn't so much the fact that he made a point to check on her as often as possible, it was that the real meaning behind his question was always the same, "Are you over Jon yet?"

"You and that man from the mine seem pretty tight," she answered instead.

He seemed caught off guard by the observation and glanced back towards the doorway. "Do we?" he asked once he confirmed Fulton was not in sight. His response was twinged with some annoyance.

"Do you not like him?" She had started this conversation to put his focused on something other than her, but now she was truly curious. Petyr seemed to regard her carefully then, clearly trying to figure out what she might know. She felt her brow furrow just a bit in confusion as a sense of curiosity about Mr. Fulton bloomed in her mind. It wasn't like Petyr to let someone get under his skin so.

"My dear girl, business does not always allow for such pleasantries as like or dislike."

"So you dislike him."

"Mr. Fulton just has his own way of doing things, and they are not necessarily the way I would prefer or advise." Sansa felt her brow furrow a bit more. "Come now," he continued in response to her expression. "You know me well enough to know it bothers me when people don't value my guidance."

She didn't care for his veiled dig at her, and furthermore she wasn't sure she believed his explanation. He seemed too bothered by Fulton for there to not be more to the story. "And what is it you're trying to give him guidance on?" she asked, making sure to add a touch of sweetness in her voice. He seemed somewhat thrown by her sudden interest.

A couple of girls came out of the saloon then causing a momentary distraction before they went off down the street. The delay seemed to allow Petyr the time he needed to compose himself.

He looked around and then stepped in closer to her, as if he planned to tell her an important secret. "He wanted to close the mine," he began. Sansa inhaled sharply and drew back a step. "Not to worry. He'll see reason soon enough. I won't allow anything else." He smiled then, seemingly proud of himself.

"And how will you manage that?" His expression darkened some then.

"I'm certain we'll be able to bargain at some point. Though it'll be no small feat I assure you. He's proving to be a rather hard negotiator with barely any sense of reason or fairness."

She wanted to ask what it was exactly he might be willing to concede or offer, but then she thought better of it. "He told us about what happened in Cailin." She wasn't sure why she was telling him this, other than maybe she wanted him to know she could find things out when she needed to, that she wasn't afraid.

"Did he now? I didn't know you two were so well acquainted already. When did that happen exactly?" His eyes narrowed as he waiting on her response. She recalled him having almost that exact expression the first time he had seen her with Jon. Her heart seized at bit at the sudden memory of Jon refusing to shake Petyr's hand. She wondered if she would always be able to remember his face so clearly.

"I asked, when did you get all cozy with Fulton?" Petyr's voice butted into her memory.

"I'm not cozy with him," she snapped. "I mean, I don't even think he even knows my name."

"But you just said he told you about Cailin. That's rather sensitive information for him to be telling someone that he doesn't even know the name of."

"He told several of us about it the other night, right after the meeting. He came up and just started talking about it. He was called away as soon as he finished, before there were any introductions." Petyr studied her and seemed to decide that she wasn't lying.

"Be careful around him." She wasn't sure if he was saying this out of genuine concern or jealousy. She had planned to give Fulton a wide berth, but that was because she had already decided he creeped her out some, not because Petyr was warning her off him.

"Is he dangerous or something?" she asked.

"No, of course not," he answered swiftly. "But you're young and sweet….. and still in mourning. I just don't want to see you fall prey and lose your heart to yet another newcomer."

"How dare you," she hissed. How dare he act like Jon had somehow victimized her or she was just some naïve love-struck girl. It took everything in her not to slap him across the face. She stood there facing him, hands balled into tight fists, her nails slicing into her palms.

"Hey boss," Roz called appearing in the doorway. "I need you in here please." Sansa's attention snapped to her. Roz who always looked calm and collected, seemed somewhat rattled.

"Handle it," Petyr said attempting to wave her off. He was still watching Sansa with a sense of interest, almost as if he was daring her to snap.

"I already tried," she said jerking her head just so and giving him a look that smacked of desperation. "I need you. Now," she said, the N of now coming out with emphasis and urgency.

"Alright!" he snapped and then turned back to Sansa. "Please heed my warning. Stay clear of Fulton, steer clear of all those men from the mine." And with that he followed Roz inside, leaving her standing in the bright sun, burning up with rage.

xxxxxx

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe he's not wrong," Marge said.

Sansa whirled on her. "You did not just say that!" Sansa yelled at her.

They were standing near the bar at High Garden, where Sansa had come right after leaving the Triple P. She had just spent the last several minutes railing on about Petyr. Loras had been giving them looks since she arrived. She knew her wild angry gestures were likely distracting the dancers that were supposed to be learning new choreography.

"Listen, calm down," Margaery said gently as she placed her hands on Sansa's arms.

"I will not calm down! Take it back!" Sansa cried and shook her off.

Loras yelled for the music to stop and came over. "Can you two take it upstairs please? You're distracting, and I can't imagine you want everyone hearing given what you're discussing."

"Of course," Marge said before heading behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

"Sorry," Sansa mumbled. Loras gave her a reassuring look that told her all was forgiven before he turned back towards the stage. She then followed Marge up to her room.

"So just let me explain," Marge said as soon as she closed the door. Sansa waited. "His comments about Jon were a low blow, I'm not defending that. All I'm saying is that maybe his warning to steer clear of the mining guys is not completely wrong."

"Why? I'm rather certain it's just jealousy."

"Could be. But there are also some whispers that some of those guys are pretty rough, possibly even violent."

"What?" Sansa asked, her anger ebbed as she took a seat on the bed.

"Yeah, Shae said she talked to one of the girls from The Triple P this morning. One of those guys got rather rough with one the girls over there. They found her this morning."

"But that's just one guy. And you don't even know the details."

"I understand that, but they do spend most of their free time at Petyr's places, so if anyone knows how they are, it's him. And we both know Petyr's not going to take a chance with your safety. You're far too precious to him." Sansa made a face. "I know. And I know he's going to warn you away from any man he thinks might take you away from him, but maybe, just the one time, maybe his concern isn't so misplaced."

Sansa sighed. "I suppose anything's possible. But it's not like I was planning to seek any of those men out anyways. I mean were you not creeped out by the way Fulton told that story? It almost felt like he enjoyed it."

"It was a bit odd. But then perhaps he just enjoyed trying to shock us. Maybe he hoped one of us would faint or cry, you know, so he could comfort us and play the hero."

"Maybe. Either way I'm planning to keep clear. I just want to be clear though that it's my choice and nothing to do with Petyr."

"Fair enough." They sat quietly for a couple moments and then Sansa's eye fell on the photo of Robb tucked in the mirror. After a moment Marge's eyes did too. They sat for a quiet minute before Sansa turned to her friend.

"Can I ask you something?" Sansa asked softly.

"Always."

"Do you ever feel like you miss him less?"

Marge's face didn't change but Sansa saw a sadness fill her eyes. "You realize what your brother and I had, it was rather different than what you had with Jon?"

"You've said that before, but I don't think you were so different. I think you loved him. I mean I know you two liked to flirt and all that, but, but I think you loved him. And I think he might've loved you too." They had never directly spoken about this before. Sansa had never wanted to pry because she hadn't wanted to pick at Marge's wound, but now with Jon's passing she had so many questions. She had to know if the ache would ever let up. She knew it hadn't for her father when her mother had died, but that was different. They had spent years together, built a life together. She needed it to be different because she could hardly stand the thought of feeling this heartbroken for the next fifty or so years.

"I don't ever miss him less. I've just learned to live with the ache is all. It's like when you lace your corset just a little too tight. It's hard to breathe, and at first you feel like you might pass out. But then after a while you learn how to survive on the air you can get in your lungs. You adjust, you aren't breathing better, you just learn how to function with less air."

Her words hung in the air and for a moment Sansa felt just that, it was hard to breathe. Marge was looking away from her, her attention focused on the mirror and the picture of Robb.

"Sometimes I don't actually believe Jon's dead," Sansa said softly after several minutes.

"That's normal," Marge said turning back to look at her.

"Not like this. I'm not talking like in that split second when you wake and you forgot they died. I mean like in my soul, I still can feel him sometimes." Marge did not look convinced. "I've been having these dreams about him, and they feel very real," Sansa pressed on.

"The one where he rides away from you?"

"No. There's a different one…. Did you ever have dreams about Robb?"

"Initially, but they're rare now." Sansa looked pained by the thought of the dreams disappearing. "I think I have more closure than you though," Marge offered. "I had a something of him to bury. You didn't have that. I'm sure that makes it a hundred times harder."

"He talks to me in the dream."

"Sansa. It's only a dream."

"We're at Winterfell," she went on as if Marge hadn't spoken. "In the dream it's been rebuilt, and I think we live there. We're standing on the porch watching children play in the yard and he wraps me in his arms. And then he whispers in my ear, "See, I told you. It's just as I promised isn't it?"….. Please stop looking at me like that."

"Sansa that is perfectly normal dream to have. And I'm sure the dream brings you some comfort, but I won't take it as a sign of anything more than a broken heart. I'm sorry, I am."

Sansa started to cry softly then. "Why did this happen? Why did he come here just to make me love him and then go off and die?"

Marge wrapped her in a hug and shushed her. "It'll get easier. I swear to you it will."

"I don't want it to get easier. I just want to see him Marge, even if it's just one more time. I want to shout at him not to go. I want him to stay here, safe, with me."

"I know sweetheart," Marge said stroking her hair to comfort her. "I know."


	28. Chapter 28

The atmosphere in town remained charged with fear and worry despite Petyr's near constant attempts to reassure everyone that things would be alright. He told the paper, and anyone that would listen, that he had it on good authority that the mine would remain operational and that the Boltons would not be a threat to the town. Sansa couldn't recall him ever acting so desperate. That more than anything, made her worry.

The sun set early this time of year and the horizon was already dark as she and Arya made their way over to Oathkeepers for their weekly friends' dinner.

"You've been rather quiet today. Still not sleeping well?" Arya asked as they walked along the sidewalk.

"No, not really." She rarely got a full night's sleep anymore, not with the way Jon and visions of a future that would never be, haunted her dreams.

They were on the far side of the street from King's Landing and The Mockingbird. There were several of the mining men standing around on the sidewalk clearly leering at them. "Could they be anymore repulsive?" Arya asked under her breath.

"Best not to challenge them to it," Sansa answered quietly and they started to walk a little faster.

They entered Oathkeepers and made their way towards a table near the back where Brienne and Tormund sat. Theon, Gendry and Sam were expected tonight as well. Marge or Loras joined occasionally if one of them could get away, but neither was expected tonight since it was pay day at the mine.

"Those mining guys still hanging out over at Pete's?" Tormund asked as they slid into their chairs.

"Sure are," Arya answered.

He took a long drink of his beer. "Am I the only one that thinks they show very little interest in the mine? Not sure how they are going to reopen it if no one's working to clear it."

"Petyr says they've got people working around the clock. The paper said today that the mining company will be announcing their decision by the end of the week," Sansa said.

"Propaganda. I won't believe any of it till there is an official announcement," Tormund retorted. Brienne sighed and headed off to the kitchen.

Theon appeared at the table and slid into an open seat. "Hey all."

"Hey," the girls answered in unison.

"Hey Greyjoy, those mining guys still keeping horses over at the livery?" Tormund asked.

"Yeah," Theon answered. "And to be honest they are wearing me out. They come and go at all hours..."

Brienne returned with a tray of food and started to pass out the meals. "You know a couple of them came in last night. Didn't talk much, just played a few hands of cards. Once they finally believed me that I don't keep girls here, they cleared out."

"Be happy for that. From what I hear you don't want them in your establishment anyways," Theon said.

"Why's that?" Arya asked. "Seems like they have money to burn."

Theon paused and glanced at Tormund. "What?" Sansa asked, forcing Theon to meet her eye.

"I heard they roughed up a couple girls over at the Summer Isles last night," Theon answered reluctantly.

"None of them are staying with Olenna, correct?" Brienne asked, clearly concerned.

"No. Most of them seem to be bunking over at Petyr's new place, Harren Hall," Theon replied. "They seem rather loyal to all things Baelish from what I can tell."

"Do you think he knew them before they came here?" Brienne asked to no one specifically.

"No idea, and we should stop talking about them. You know my thoughts, best to stay away from Baelish and his business dealings," Tormund said. He appeared to be over the conversation as he began to shovel food into his mouth.

"He probably did," Sansa answered, ignoring Tormund's advice. "He has a history with the mining company stretching back to the founding of the town."

Brienne looked up and Sansa turned to see Sam entering the bar. He spotted them and made his way over. Pulling out a chair, he saddled up to the table. He looked extremely tired. He had moved out of Olenna's recently, now staying with Doc T above the clinic. Sansa hadn't asked him, but she couldn't help but wonder if he could no longer bear to stay where he had lived with Jon.

They each greeted him and then Arya asked why he looked so tired.

"Didn't get much sleep last night. Got called over to the Summer Isle in the middle of the night," he answered. Everyone exchanged a worried knowing glance. "What?" Sam asked confused by the reaction.

"We've heard the gossip," Sansa explained. "How bad was it? Honestly."

Sam hesitated and then decided to answer. "Broken nose on one, dislocated shoulder on another."

"Jesus," Tormund said.

"Did they say who exactly did it?" Sansa asked. Sam shook his head.

"Isn't this the type of stuff those Baelish men are supposed to be stopping?" Brienne asked as Pod appeared at the table and set a drink in front of Sam before heading back to the bar.

"What's a few broken bones on a couple of whores compared to the money they seem to be spending in his places?" Theon asked. The women gaped at him. "What? Don't tell me any of you thought he would be looking to run them off if there is money to be made."

"You're right," Sansa agreed a moment later. "He won't."

"You girls promise me you won't walk around alone until those men clear out," Brienne said. She was looking intently at Arya. Arya still frequently went beyond the safety of town to hunt, most days she went only with Nymeria. Arya grunted in disgust and then finally nodded her assent.

"We'll be safe," Sansa assured her.

They forced themselves to move on to lighter topics until they finished dinner. Afterwards Arya had gone to the kitchen to help Brienne clean-up. Sam had left to see Gilly. Tormund and Gendry had joined a nearby card game, and Sansa and Theon stood at the bar chatting with Pod as they waited for Arya to finish up.

The saloon doors swung open then and the bar quickly fell quiet. Mr. Fulton and two other men stood in the door surveying the saloon. His eyes landed on Sansa after a moment and he smiled. She saw Theon tense from the corner of her eye before he moved so he was between them. She noticed Fulton's eyes narrow into a glare but Theon did not move.

"Evening folks," Fulton said as he started to make his way towards the bar. "Now don't let me interrupt y'all." Most of the patrons in the saloon slowly went back to what they had been doing, though most kept the corner of their eye on Fulton and his men.

"Evening," he said to Theon and Sansa as he reached the bar. "Round of whiskey," he called to Pod.

Pod got busy pouring the drinks as Fulton turned his attention towards Theon and Sansa. "Didn't we meet a few nights back at the town meeting?" Theon turned his head and glanced at Sansa who nodded slightly. "You came by Petyr's the other day as well." Sansa nodded again. "And yet we have not been formally introduced. I'm Rusty Fulton."

"Sansa Stark," she answered softly.

He moved to extend his hand to her, but Theon moved just enough to block him and then took the hand himself.

"And you are?" Rusty asked turning his attention to Theon, his annoyance clear.

"Theon Greyjoy. We've met at the livery…. several times," Theon answered as he shook him hand.

"Of course," he said as he took his hand back. "Care to join us for a drink?" It was clear his question was intended for Sansa.

"We were just on our way out," Theon answered. Rusty looked passed him as if he had not spoken and waited for Sansa to answer instead.

"Sorry," she confirmed. He kept his eyes on her, almost as if he was waiting for her to change her mind. She cast her eyes down to escape his gaze.

"Pity," he said, finally seeming to accept the rejection. "Next time perhaps." He took his drink from the bar and headed for a table on the far side of the saloon.

"What was all that about?" Arya whispered as she appeared alongside her sister a moment later.

"Let's go," Theon said before she could respond.

She and Arya immediately followed him, but when they reached the door, she couldn't help but glance back. Rusty was watching her. He met her eyes and immediately looked pleased. He lifted his drink to her before she quickly turned back around. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but something in his expression spoke of danger.

xxxxxx

Brienne had arrived as soon as she opened the shop the following morning.

"You're here rather early," Sansa observed. Brienne lifted an eyebrow to advise that they both knew why she was here. Sansa sighed and moved to her rack of sample dresses. "So what happened after we left?" she asked as she moved the dresses around. It calmed her to try and put order to things.

"Nothing much. They sat in the corner, drank a couple rounds and left."

"And they just drank?" She doubted Brienne would be here now if that was all that had happened.

"For the most part."

"But…"

"Tormund said he thought he overheard Fulton asking about you some. What your relationship with Greyjoy is, if you you're spoken for."

Sansa stilled for a moment and blinked away an unexpected tear, and then went back to straightening the dresses.

"Sansa….." Brienne began. Sansa turned and met her friend's eyes. "Never mind, forget I brought it up."

"No, say whatever it is you planned to say. You've always been honest to a fault, don't change now."

"I didn't like the way he looks at you. Not at the meeting, not at the bar. I imagine he came in there last night to try and see you…. I was wondering if you want me to have Pod come spend some time here."

Sansa appreciated her concern, but she didn't think it that serious. Rusty might be interested, but she was not and she doubted he would do anything beyond look at her while Petyr remained in charge. "That's not necessary. This shop is on Main Street, I have a large window. People come in and out of here all day. And I'm not scared of Rusty. Anyways, once Petyr hears of his inquiries, I'm sure he'll put a stop to it."

"You're counting on Baelish to actually be your ally now?" Brienne asked in near disbelief.

"Not an ally, never an ally. But he has a solid record of warning men away from me." Sansa's hand floated to the chain around her neck. The situations were nowhere near the same and yet she couldn't stop herself from thinking of Jon. Brienne's expression softened in response.

"Alright, but if you change your mind, I'm happy to ask Pod to check in."

"I know, and I appreciate it."

"Well I'm going to go open up. Just… please be careful."

"Yes ma'am," she answered with a smile. Brienne tossed her a faint smile and then left just as a customer arrived. Sansa took in a laundry order and began setting up for the appointment she was expecting soon.

A few minutes had passed before she looked up at the chime of the doorbell. She glanced at her watch, still too early for the appointment. She moved towards the front of the shop to see who it was.

It wasn't anyone she was familiar with, so she imagined he must be one of the miners. "Good morning. Is there something I can help you with?" she asked when she noticed he carried no laundry.

He looked her over and half smiled. She wasn't sure she liked how she felt under his gaze. "Is there something I can help you with?" she repeated.

"Yes," he answered and looked her up and down once more. She moved then so the counter blocked half his view. He moved his eyes back to her face with a hint of disappointment. "I heard Baelish tell my boss that you're a seamstress." She nodded. "Well our stay here seems to be shaping up to go a bit longer than anticipated. As a result, I find myself in need of some new clothes."

"Ahh, well I'm sorry Mr –"

"Mr. Kar."

"I'm sorry Mr. Kar, but I'm not sure I can really help you."

"You just agreed you're a seamstress and your sign there says seamstress. So are you saying it's all false pretenses?"

"No, it's just that, well mostly I do mending or ladies clothes," she said motioning to the rack near the window. It was a lie, but after the way he had looked at her she had decided she didn't want his business.

"If you can sew a dress, well them I'm sure you can sew a shirt." There was a slight harshness in his voice. She decided perhaps it was best to not anger him further.

"Well, I suppose you're right."

"Wonderful," he said, a wide smile breaking out on his face.

"Alright then. Let's go to the back and get your measurements." She led him to the back of the shop. "Stand there please," she directed as she opened her kit. She took out the measuring tape and her note pad. She made sure to keep a fair amount of distance between them for now. "So what is it you were looking to have me make?"

"I suppose two shirts and a pair of pants would be sufficient for now." Sansa nodded and recorded the order on her pad.

"Well let's start with the shirt measurements then."

"Should I take off my current shirt for this?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, that's not necessary."

"Pity. I suppose that means I won't end up getting to remove my pants either then."

Sansa blanched. "Listen, Mr. Kar. This a profe –"

"Do relax Miss Stark, I'm only playing. I apologize for offending your sensibilities."

Sansa gave him a quick nod. "Let's get started then," she said. "Arms out please."

She took his shirt measurements and recorded them on her sheet. Thankfully he hadn't said much as she had measured him.

"And now the pants?" he said calling her attention back to him.

"Yes," she said feeling uneasy.

"Is there a box I should be getting on? Or will you be getting on your knees for me?"

Sansa scowled. "If you can't be respectful, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Just another joke. Do you not like jokes?"

"I like jokes just fine….. when they're funny," she said tartly.

He gave a low chuckle. "Perhaps you have a point. Anyways, let's get this finished, I need to get to work."

Sansa lowered herself to her knees and began to measure for his pants. She wrote down the outer seam length and then began to measure his inseam. Her hand reached the top of his inner thigh and he moved swiftly, his hands was suddenly clutching her hair, forcing her face in to his groin. She dropped the tape measure and tried to push off against his thighs. He pulled her hair harder and ground his pelvis forward.

Her hands flailing, she was finally able to scratch him, hard, and he released her with a curse. She pushed back and quickly got to her feet and moved to the far side of the room. He glanced at his bleeding hand and then looked at her with far more amusement than anger.

"Kitty cat has claws."

"What the hell was that?! Get out!" she roared.

"It was just a joke, calm down."

"No! No, that was not a joke! You get out!" She said starting to move towards the front of the store.

"Don't be a stuck-up princess," he spat starting to follow her.

"I said get out!" she yelled turning back towards him.

He moved swiftly then. She involuntarily shrieked as he shoved her hard into the wall, his hand striking the wall on either side of her, effectively pinning her between himself and the wall. "You better stop telling me what to do right now," he hissed. She didn't say a word but held his gaze defiantly. He looked back at her, cocking his head back and forth ever so slightly, waiting for her to look away.

"You think I don't know all about you Sansa Stark? People like to talk about you here. The girl with cursed family that may have cursed the town." Sansa glared at him. "I found it all rather intriguing, thought I'd come find out for myself."

"That so?" she spat. "Well if you believe them, then you probably shouldn't be standing so close to me," she warned.

He smiled down at her, cold and unyielding. "I don't believe in all that bullshit. Apache curses, voodoo, luck, whatever they want to call it. It's all bullshit and excuses. A man gets what he wants in the world by taking it."

"Are you threatening me?"

"You are a spirited little thing, aren't you? All that curse talk must force you to be all hard on the outside." One of his hands was sliding down the wall towards her waist. "But what about on the inside? You hard there too? Or you soft and warm?"

"Don't you dare touch me," Sansa ordered trying to shove him away.

"Or what?" he sneered and pushed his hips forward.

The door chimed then and they both turned their heads quickly to see who it was. It was Rusty, and he was already glaring at Kar.

"Back the fuck away from her. Now!" he commanded.

"Sorry boss, sorry," Kar said and backed away immediately, his hands turned up in surrender.

"Apologize to her and then get out of my sight."

"Sorry Miss Stark," he muttered and then hurried from the shop.

Sansa continued to stand with her back against the wall gasping for air. After a moment she looked back to Rusty.

"Are you alright?" he asked moving forward.

"Please just stay there," she said holding her hand up.

He stopped, but his eyes remained fixed on her. "I'd like to apologize for what just happened here," he said. "I can assure you I will deal with it." She realized a moment later that she had nodded in response. She knew then she was in shock. She focused on the floor for a moment trying to control her breathing.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, but her breathing had returned to normal before Rusty spoke again. "I do apologize for what I'm about to request," he began.

That finally snapped her from her stupor. "And why's that?" she asked harshly and drew herself up straight.

"I need to ask that you don't mention this to anyone, but especially your friend Baelish."

"You can't be serious."

"I am. Unfortunately my men are already getting a rather rough reputation around here. I'd hate for yet another misunderstanding to further disturb the peace."

"Misunderstanding?!" she cried and pushed away from the wall to face him.

"As I said I apologize. Some of these men, they just, they aren't used to dealing with women that aren't whores, and they have a terribly wicked senses of humor. Not to make excuses, but this was likely just a joke or a dare gone horribly wrong. They are loyal men, some stupider than others, but as I said, you have my assurance that I will handle this."

"A joke?" she asked as she gaped at him. "He just grabbed me and pin me to a wall. He said horrid things to me, and god knows what he really intended to do, and you dare call it a joke?"

"I did not mean that to offend you. I'm just trying to assure you there is no real danger here."

"Get out," she ordered.

"As you wish, but again you have my apologies and promise that there will be justice."

"Good day Mr. Fulton," she said dismissively. She just wanted him gone.

He lingered for another moment and then tipped his head and went out the door. Sansa moved quickly to the door and locked it behind him. A moment later she sank down next to the door and began to cry. She wasn't sure how that had all just happened, and though she hadn't thought it was possible, her heart ached for Jon all the more.


	29. Chapter 29

Sansa glanced up as the door to the shop opened. She tensed when she found Rusty standing there with a bag of laundry. He looked pensive and seemed to be waiting on her to say something.

She was somewhat surprised to see him. He and all of the miners seemed to have made a point of staying clear of her the last few days. She had refrained from mentioning the incident to anyone other than Arya mainly because there wasn't really a law to report it to, and she had decided it was best not to endanger any of her friends that might seek to defend her is she told them.

"Do you need something?" she finally asked. He seemed to take it as an invitation, exhaled and moved further into the shop.

"I'd like to have this laundered," he said cautiously as he set the bag on the counter.

"Alright. It'll be ready on Monday." She tagged the bag and moved it behind the counter. She held the ticket out to Rusty who took it and then continued to linger. "Was there something else?" she asked crossing her arms to show her displeasure that he remained.

"I wanted to let you know Mr. Kar was dealt with. My apologies again for the other day."

"Glad to hear it." She decided against asking what "dealt with" meant. There was something in his expression that told her it had been more than just a chewing out. The thought pleased her some.

"Will you be attending the town meeting tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Yes. I assume you'll be delivering your verdict on the mine?"

"I will."

"I hope you've decided to keep it open. A closure would destroy the town."

"I imagine this place means a great deal to you." She tilted her head but refrained from asking him why he thought that. "I've been told your father founded the town with Baelish," he explained.

"He did. And this place does mean a lot to me. This is my home." They stood for a moment in silence and Sansa decided to press him. "Do you plan to close the mine?"

"To be honest I've not decided one way or the other."

"And why's that? You've had more than enough time to evaluate things."

"Do you think this town is a place worth saving? I'm sure you know how many of the people here view you. Won't there be some satisfaction in seeing then suffer?"

His words made her uneasy. "It's true that this town might not be perfect, and yes, some of the folks here might not be my biggest supporters, but I still have plenty that are. And as I said, this is my home. So yes, to me it is worth saving."

He seemed to weigh her words for a moment. "You impress me Miss Stark."

She was taken back a bit by that. "And how's that?"

"For one you are rather pretty." Those words made her guard go up further and he seemed to make note. "But it's much more than that. Your selflessness and concern for others intrigues me. I mean if people spoke of me the way they do of you, well I wouldn't shed a tear to see them suffer. In fact, it'd likely make me want to burn this place down while they watched." He laughed then, as if to assure her it was a joke, but she wasn't so sure she believed him.

"I see….." Sansa was unsure what to say beyond that, but she decided then it might be best if he left. "Will there be anything else today?" she asked hoping to encourage his departure.

"No…. Except… Is there any chance I could escort you to the meeting tomorrow night?"

"No, thank you," she said forcing a tight smile when his expression hinted at annoyance. "I need to wait for Arya to come home so we can go together. I'm sure you need to get there early in order to prepare."

"Of course." The air felt a bit heavy with her rejection of him. She hoped again that he would go. A moment later he seemed like he might as he turned away from her. But something made him stop and he turned back. "My understanding is you're still in mourning." She was taken aback, and it was clear he could see that. "I assure you, I'm not asking to be cruel. I just…... I just hope you can be open minded towards me, despite the actions of some of my men."

"Yes, well, as you said, I am still in mourning. And with the future of the town uncertain, well I can understand why I'm unable to consider matters in that arena."

"Of course, uncertainty is a terrible thing for a woman. Well, have a good afternoon Miss Stark," he said and then left the shop. Sansa watched him go and worried what she might have just set in motion.

xxxxxxx

"I'm pleased to announce the mine is back to full operation and will remain so," Rusty announced.

It was Friday evening, and everyone was crammed into the church. At his words the room exploded in cheers and shouts.

"I'm glad you're all so pleased. It took quite a bit of effort and persuasion to get this result," Petyr began. He looked smug, like he was ready to take all the credit.

"So true," Rusty interjected. "Which is why we should all give credit where credit is due." Petyr practically beamed while he waited for Rusty to go on. "So please make sure to thank Miss Sansa Stark for the plea that she made on behalf of this town. Her words were the deciding factor in helping me truly understand how important the mine is to this place."

Sansa gasped, her eyes wide with confusion as a tentative applause went up. She and Arya glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes. Sansa shook her head slightly.

"So modest," Rusty said. Petyr was alternating glaring at her and Rusty.

The rest of meeting fell away as she tried to puzzle out why Rusty had just given her credit for his decision. She hadn't really made a plea to him, they had held a brief conversation on the matter, but she did not recall saying anything that would've helped him reach this decision. She started to feel sick at the thought that he would now be expecting something from her in return.

The meeting let out and she hurried from the church. Arya was hot on her heels telling her to slow down. But she couldn't, she knew she needed to get out of there before either Petyr or Rusty caught up to her.

xxxxxx

"How many times do I have to tell you this?! She belongs to me!" Petyr roared as he and Rusty stood in his office above The Landing. They had come here directly after the meeting.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that nothing in this town belongs to you anymore?" Rusty asked arrogantly, his pale eyes fixed on Petyr with a certain level of contempt.

His calm aloofness angered Petyr even more. "I have half a mind to tell the army you're here," Petyr spat.

"Careful Baelish. I'm going to forgive you that one because you're in the midst of a jealous tantrum, but I'll remind you that you really don't want to make yourself out to be a threat to me."

How had he lost control of all of this so quickly? The Lannisters had never been this hard to control. All they had cared about was money. Roose had been much the same, but this bastard son of his, he seemed to care nothing about money. He had proven that time and again when he had repeatedly tried to pay him to leave.

"So what is it you want with her?" Petyr asked carefully.

"Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm just using her to remind you that you are not in control here anymore." Petyr bit the inside of his lip so hard he tasted blood. "Or maybe I want to have some fun while I'm here." Rusty headed towards the door then, but paused to smirk back at Petyr before adding, "Rest assured that once I've decided, you'll be the last to know."

xxxxx

"I'd like you to explain what that was last night," Petyr said without preamble as he entered her shop the following afternoon.

"I don't know," she responded.

"You don't know? You have no idea why he would lead the town to believe you were instrumental in their salvation?" His tone was venomous, she almost thought he'd like to strike her.

"I promise you I don't."

"Are you fucking him?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Don't act so innocent. Your closest friend is a whore after all."

"You need to leave."

"You owe me an answer."

"I owe you nothing."

Petyr stood across from her. It was clear he was furious, but he seemed unsure of what to say now. She knew he had to be shocked, she had rarely stood up to him like this.

"I said you need to leave."

"If you decide to be loyal to him over me, I promise you will come to regret it."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, and I assure you, I am not the one you need to be afraid of here my dear. You do not know him. You do not want to know him, not more than you already do."

"And why is that Petyr? What do you know about him that you aren't saying?"

"Why do you always assume I have such nefarious intentions? Can you not trust me as your mother once did?"

"You aren't answering my question."

"There is nothing to tell, but I don't trust him, and neither should you." And with that he stormed out of her shop.

xxxxx

That evening Sansa let herself out the front of her shop and paused to lock the door. When she turned back around, she could see a man across the street in the fading twilight. It took her a moment to realize it was Mr. Kar. When he noticed that she had spotted him, he ducked his head and quickly fled down the street.

Sansa stood frozen to the sidewalk with nausea as she watched him go. She took a few deep breaths as she tried to calm down, telling herself that what she'd seen had been a trick of the dying light. It did little good though, because she was rather certain her eyes had not been fooled, and that his left hand, the one he had touched her with, had almost assuredly been missing three fingers.


	30. Chapter 30

When they had arrived in Sunsites, Jon had advised Colonel Baratheon that he would handle his own notifications, though he had no intention of sending any. On the ride here, he had found plenty of time to ponder over things, and he had come to the firm conclusion, despite any tangible proof, that Baelish was certainly in league with the Boltons. It had been simple conclusion to reach, all he had to do was remind himself of the way Petyr had all but insisted that the town only send him and Grenn to that posse. He'd be a fool to think Petyr had hoped for anything other than for them to meet their end, and he won't be surprised to find Petyr had somehow gotten word to the Boltons about their movements prior to the ambush.

He had stayed with the army on the edge of town until the colonel had returned to advise that there were no updated reports on the Boltons' whereabouts. He overheard the colonel and Lt. Seaworth discussing their belief that the gang had in fact fled to Mexico.

Seaworth later came to tell him that they planned to circle down to Douglas, check with the border-crossing for any sightings before heading back to Fort Huachuca. He invited Jon to come with them, but he declined. He wanted nothing more than to get Ghost from the livery in Gleeson and then head home to Copper Canyon. It was time he had it out with Petyr once and for all. He had already dreamed, more than once, of the look on Baelish's face when he returned unannounced from the dead. But the satisfaction of revenge aside, the thought of feeling Sansa in his arms once more was more than enough motivation to make him head for home.

The army left Sunsites the following day and Jon rode alone for Gleeson. He hoped and prayed they hadn't sold Ghost off while he was missing.

He arrived in Gleeson that afternoon and went straight to the livery corral. Initially he didn't see Ghost, but when he went to the far corral, the one that held the horses that were for sale, he saw him. Relief and joy swept over him as Ghost pushed through the other horses to get to the fence and Jon. He greeted the horse, petting his long face and promising him he would be right back. He left to find one of the stable hands to let them know he'd like to trade his current horse in for the white one.

"Weren't you part of the posse out looking for the Boltons?" the livery man had asked him quietly after inspecting his horse.

"No, sorry. You must have me mixed up with someone else."

"I suppose you're right, they keep telling us they're all dead. It's a real shame too. This town lost quite a few good men."

"I'm sorry for that, truly."

"So why you want that runty white horse anyways? Seems to me that big chestnut you came in on is the better animal."

"You ever heard the expression 'Death is a pale rider'?"

The man chuckled. "I almost feel sorry for whoever it is that crossed you."

Jon regarded the man as he thought of Baelish. "Don't."

xxxxxx

He did his best to keep a low profile for the remainder of the day. His strategy was to leave for Tombstone in the morning. That would put him into Copper Canyon by the evening of the day after tomorrow.

It was now evening, and he found himself standing outside the Western Union office. He'd wrestled with the idea all day, but now faced with the imminent closure of the office for the night, he decided to go in. He had no intention of sending a telegram, but he couldn't help but hope that perhaps they had one waiting for him. Maybe Sansa had sent something after he had left. She would've expected him to return to Gleeson and collect Ghost after all.

He entered and kept near the entrance until the operator was busy with another customer. He moved towards the end of the counter, searching the slots along the wall to see if anything was lingering in the S slot. He was trying to make out the name on the top envelope when he noticed the telegraph operator regarding him carefully. Jon quickly looked away and turned to leave, but then a discarded newspaper on the edge of the counter caught his eye. It was the Copper Canyon Gazette. He had no idea how it would have made its way to Gleeson, but before the operator could say anything, he grabbed it and made his way out the door.

He walked a bit down the sidewalk and stepped into a doorway before opening the paper. The front page had an article discussing an explosion at the mine. In the article Petyr was discussing the importance of the town and the mine to the mining company and assuring everyone that all would be fine. It was accompanied by a photograph of Petyr standing near the mine.

On first glance there was nothing significant to the picture and Jon just glared at Petyr for a moment. He was about to crumple the paper up when a man standing in the back edge of the frame caught his attention. Jon moved the photo closer and studied the man.

It took less than a minute before his blood began to run cold. Despite the grainy quality of the photo, he knew he knew this man, and he was not someone from the town.

He took a deep breath to stop the pain that had started to radiate from his chest at the memory, and tried to focus instead on what he needed to do next.

He gathered himself and headed for the general store. He needed to get supplies. He was going after the army. He needed to show them this photo. He needed to tell them that the Boltons were hiding in Copper Canyon.

xxxxx

He left Gleeson that evening, heading south towards Bisbee. He knew he'd never be able to catch up to them if he followed behind them to Douglas. And if the army had gone to Douglas as Seaworth had said they would, then they'd likely go back to Huachuca via Bisbee.

It was a two-day ride to Bisbee, and that was if he pushed Ghost for 20 miles a day, but since the army had two days on him already he couldn't take the chance of missing them if he took three days.

He camped in the desert for a few hours that night and arrived in Bisbee the following evening. He checked into a small rooming house and then went to the saloon. He asked around to see if anyone had seen an army unit pass through recently. It gave him hope that no one had.

His plan appeared to have worked. Because the next day the unit arrived in town shortly before noon.

"I thought you were going home," Lt. Seaworth said as Jon approached them.

"I was, but I've learned something. I need your unit to come with me to Copper Canyon."

"And why's that?" Col. Baratheon asked as he ate his lunch.

"The Boltons are there."

Stannis and Davos stopped eating and looked up at him. "That's not possible," Stannis informed him and went back to his food.

"It is, I'm sure of it."

"How? We've had no word of that, and there's no way you've gone home and then come here in the last few days," Davos pointed out.

"Correct, but I have proof just the same," he said pulling out the newspaper. Davos took it, looked it over and handed it back.

"Well?" Stannis prompted.

"There is nothing in there about the Boltons," Davos stated confused.

"Look at the photo," Jon said pointing to the man in the back. They both looked and it was clear they did not understand who they were looking at. "This man," he explained, "rides with Ramsay Bolton. He's the one that held me down while Ramsay carved into me."

Stannis took the photo and studied it before shaking his head. "I don't know how you can be certain of that. The picture is terrible quality and he's only partially in the shot. I mean that could be anyone." He handed the newspaper back to Davos for a closer look. "Anyways, seems to me if the Boltons were there we'd have gotten some other report by now. We've had no such reports from anyone out of that area. Given that and the fact that a few folks in Douglas were rather certain there was a large group of rough looking riders that just passed through there into Mexico a few weeks back, well seems to me that it's unlikely the Boltons are in your town," Stannis said dismissively.

"I don't know about any of that, but I know that that man in the photograph is him. Which tells me the Boltons are in Copper Canyon. I need you to help me bring them in," Jon argued.

"I wish we could help you, but your hunch just isn't enough. Without solid collaborated proof, we are under orders to return to the fort. We need to resupply before we head north to Fort Apache," Stannis said waving him off.

"But isn't stopping the Boltons your mission!?"

"It was, but I have no reason to believe they aren't in Mexico, which ends my mission. If you had more proof, I might be willing to take a further look. But you're got nothing other than a blurry photo that could be anyone. I just can't believe that if the Boltons are there, that not one person has tried to report it," Stannis said.

"I can. Are either of you familiar with Petyr Baelish?"

xxxxx

He spent the afternoon pleading his case to Colonel Baratheon. The process was arduous and incremental. At first, he would barely listen at all. He hadn't been particularly interested in Jon's assessment of Petyr Baelish, which he demonstrated by suggesting multiple times that they just telegram the town and ask for a report. Jon had explained three times why that won't work. Next, he offered to send a scout party with Jon. Jon had tried to explain why that was not their best course of action.

"You'd lose the element of surprise. If the Boltons realize they have been discovered, well at best they'll flee, at worst they slaughter the town and then flee. Either way you're going to lose your chance to capture them. The best option is to surprise them and hit with your full force," Jon told him.

But the colonel would not be swayed. "You can have Lt. Seaworth and five other men. That is my final offer."

"Colonel –" Jon began.

"I said final offer." He turned to Davos then. "If they are there, send word and I will bring the rest of the company. Don't do anything to get yourself killed."

"Yes sir," Davos responded.


	31. Chapter 31

Petyr sat at his desk counting his money. He hadn't wanted this stay of the Boltons, but at least it was proving to be rather profitable. They spent endless money in his establishments, and their rough ways had prompted several of the other local businesses to begin paying him for protection. He just wished he didn't have to share the profits with Roose's piece of shit son or that old coot Pycelle.

He placed the final cash strap and stood up to stretch his legs. He moved across the office and looked out his window to survey "his town." Thinking of it like that always made him smile. Those weeks between when he had rid himself of Snow and when Ramsay had shown up had been perfect. If only he could return to that once more.

He caught sight of Sansa's red hair then, gleaming in the sunlight as she exited the bank and made her way back towards her shop. To his displeasure he noticed Ramsay was standing on the opposite side of the street watching her much the same as he was. Almost as if he sensed him, Ramsay turned his gaze towards Petyr's window and smirked before heading off in the opposite direction.

Petyr left the window and went back to his desk and glared at the money now. He needed the Boltons gone. The question now was how to make that happen. He thought about it often. He knew with each passing day that the likelihood they'd be discovered grew stronger. He held no delusions of Ramsay's loyalty. If caught, that bastard would sell him out just to make sure someone was hanging beside him on the gallows.

He moved one of the pack of bills to an envelope for Pycelle. He owed him extra this week since just last week some shit out to the mine had figured a couple things out. Thankfully when he went to Pycelle to have him telegram the army, the old man had simply advised Petyr of the report instead. That man had quickly and quietly disappeared. At least Ramsay had dealt with that part. Whatever he had done seemed to quench his darker desires for the last few days. At least he hadn't made any of his girls bleed since then.

His thoughts drifted back to Sansa. She had made a point of keeping her distance from him since he had confronted her about her dealings with Ramsay. Perhaps he should've refrained from accusing her of sleeping with Bolton, but he'd just been too furious to stop himself. At least his words had been keeping her from Bolton as well. He'd made note she'd been keeping a distance from Ramsay for now, and that gave him a small measure of comfort. He just wished she would hurry up and accept that in the long run, he was the best one to protect her. Why could she not accept the truth, that he just wanted the best for her, like he had for her mother? Perhaps he could help her along if he pointed out the way Ramsay watched her whenever she crossed his path.

His thoughts turned to last night. He clenched his fist just thinking of Ramsay's comments, about how he often pictured her pretty copper hair gripped in his hand as her mouth wrapped around his cock. He knew the man was just doing it to assert his supposed dominance, but he was no fool. If he did warn Sansa of such things, he'd have to figure out a way to do it without Ramsay finding out about it. That man had become too unpredictable and too uncontrollable since his arrival here, and the last thing he wanted was to be on the receiving end of that crazy fucker's fury.

He looked up with alarm to a knock on the door. Was that him now? He relaxed when Roz pushed the door open and entered holding a telegram envelope. "Pycelle said to give this to you immediately." She handed the envelope to him and left the room without another word. Petyr tore it opened and read the message. The words on the paper instantly ruined everything.

"Impossible," he fumed between clenched teeth, and then in a rage he tore the message to tiny shreds.

xxxxxx

Sansa sighed. Trixie wasn't waiting for her out back as she had requested. She had tried multiple times to get the girl to come by her shop for her dress fitting, but she had told Sansa there was just no way she could leave her daughter alone in the brothel right now. So Sansa had reluctantly agreed to meet her at The Triple P as long as she met her in the back.

She waited for a bit and then decided she would venture inside. With any luck she would still be able to avoid Petyr by heading up the back stairs, maybe she'd even get lucky enough to run into Roz so she could collect last week's pay.

She quietly pushed opened the back door and made her way into the back hall headed for the back stairs. She paused at the foot of the stair, her attention drawn further into the building by the sound of angry male voices. She immediately identified one of them as Petyr's. She knew she should just leave, but there was something about Petyr's tone that stopped her from doing so. Instead she moved to the side of the hallway, into the shadows, and crept further into the building.

"And you're certain he was the one that you left alive?" Petyr asked.

"I suppose I don't know for certain, but the one I left alive sounds like the one you're describing, minus the white horse. But I won't bet on him coming back this way. Most men would leave the territory after seeing what he saw in that valley."

"If he's alive he'll be coming back here."

"And I suppose you want me to remedy the issue for you?" Rusty asked sounding almost bored.

"Damn right. You and Roose were supposed to have already handled this."

There was a long silence, no one was speaking, but no one appeared to be moving about or leaving the room either.

"It's going to cost you more," Rusty said finally.

"I've already paid you plenty."

"I don't really care. I want at least the same amount you gave Tywin Lannister for the old sheriff." Sansa grabbed for the door frame to keep from falling as her knees nearly buckled.

"You know, one of your men killed Janos," Petyr answered him coolly. "And considering that started most of this mess, I figure you owe me this one free of charge."

"I don't kill sheriffs for free."

There was again a long pause. Sansa couldn't breathe, the wave of nausea was threatening to reveal her hiding place. She choked back her bile as quietly as she could.

"Perhaps this is all a moot point. You did say you left him bleeding under a horse. Perhaps he did die in that valley," Petyr mused.

"It's possible, but if he is the one I left, well he didn't impress me as the type to easily die. So question is, do you want to take your chances? I mean you were so certain a moment ago he's be returning….."

"Fine, you have a deal. But I'm only paying you IF he actually shows back up here," Petyr said.

"No. You'll pay me for it today."

"Now wait just a moment. You need to be reasonable."

"Have you ever seen me do anything that would lead you to believe I'm a reasonable man?" There was another long pause as the man seemed to be waiting for his words to sink in. The pause went on so long that without being conscious of it, Sansa had moved so she could see the room's reflection in mirror hanging from the far wall.

"Fine," Petyr finally agreed, his mouth pressed into a tight angry line.

"Wise decision." Rusty finished his whiskey with a smile. "Now fetch me a girl."

Petyr opened the door at the front of the room and called out for a couple girls. They entered a moment later and then seeing who was in the room, huddled together and sank back towards the door.

Rusty looked them over before making his choice. He pointed at one with blonde hair. "You. Come with me." The girl looked terrified and tried to step back, but Petyr snapped his fingers and commanded her to go. She took a step forward before Rusty hoisted her over his shoulder and left the room. Sansa shuttered thinking about the bloody sheets she would soon be washing. There had been far too many bloody sheets since these men had arrived.

Sansa slowly crept back down the hallway and out the back door. She couldn't get away from this place fast enough. She had always suspected Petyr played a role in her father's death, but to hear it confirmed was still shattered. But she'd have to push that aside for now. For now she had to focus on the other revelation. She hoped Rusty was right, that Jon was still somehow alive. The question now was how could she find him and warn him before he walked into his execution.

xxxxx

"Are you certain they were speaking of Jon?" Sam asked as they stood in the doctor's office.

"Yes. The problem is we have no idea where he is. And we clearly can't send telegrams to every city looking for him either. We'll just have to wire the army."

"The army?"

"I believe the mining crew is in fact the Bolton Gang. That Rusty is actually Ramsay Bolton."

"What?" Sam pulled a chair out from his desk and sat down, his shock clear.

"You have to believe me."

"I do, but I don't know if I can get a telegram off. Every time we leave town they make us take an escort," Sam said. "They say it's for our own protection, but clearly it's been for theirs."

"Clearly."

"So what are we going to do then?" Sam asked.

"You need to do your best to get to the telegraph office. Send word to the army. And maybe…. maybe send telegrams to Dragoon, Gleeson and Sunsites for Jon? Those are the closest towns to the mountains. It's possible he could still be in one of those places. Clearly someone saw him somewhere, otherwise how would Petyr know he's alive?"

"I'll try. Our next supply run is tomorrow, we were already informed that Templeton and two other men would be accompanying us. I just don't know if I'll be able to go to the telegraph office alone." Sansa looked crestfallen, her eyes pleading with him. "I'll try my best though," he assured her rising from the chair. "I promise I'll do all I can. I want to save him too."

xxxxxx

"I need to tell you something," Sansa said as soon as Arya entered their apartment.

Arya stopped and regarded her sister with concern, trepidation clear in her eyes. "I can already tell it's not happy news."

"I think you should sit."

Normally Arya would roll her eyes at such a request, but something in Sansa's tone stopped her from that. She moved to the table and sat in the closest chair and waited for Sansa to begin.

Sansa had wrestled all afternoon with how much to tell her sister. Initially she thought she might just disclose the part about Jon, but in the end she decided she should tell Arya everything. Arya deserved the truth just as much as she did.

So she carefully told her about the conversation that she had overheard at The Triple P and all that she knew about what Petyr had done to their family, including the details of his encounter with Robb before he had died. Arya had done her best to listen but eventually she had launched herself from the chair storming and seething. She stalked the length of the apartment swearing she would murder Petyr Baelish next time she laid eyes on him.

"I want to see him pay as well, I do, but we can't be rash here. He can't know we know, not yet," Sansa pleaded with her. "It's the only thing that might give us a chance to keep Jon safe."

"Dammit!" Arya shouted and kicked over her abandoned chair.

"Arya."

"I say we get some folks together and kill Petyr and Rusty- Ramsay, whatever he is calling himself. If you cut the head off the snake –"

"We can't just go around cutting off heads," Sansa interrupted. Arya glared at her. "Even if we could, we don't have enough people to do it on the scale that would be needed."

"There are plenty of people that would help!"

"We'd be lucky to put together, what, a dozen of us? If that. The Boltons probably have close to thirty, and Petyr has his own men to boot. It'd be suicide."

"We could get more than a dozen," Arya disputed.

"Well I don't trust more than about ten people in this town. All it would take is asking the wrong person and we'd be dead, the town burned or worse. We can't risk it."

"We need to be brave."

"We need to be smart," Sansa countered. "We need to be patient."

Arya stomped to the window and stood looking out for several minutes. Sansa remained quiet while she did. Finally she turned back, her anger still clear. "I'm only agreeing to wait because we need to save Jon. But you promise me right here and now that we will see to his death. Be it by the law or own hand."

"I swear it."

"Alright, so what do in the meantime?"

xxxxx

The following evening Sansa and Arya sat in the pavilion watching the livery as they waited on Sam and Doc T to return from their supply run.

"Do you think he was successful?" Sansa asked as twilight began to fall.

"Hard to say. I mean I hope so, but given that they had to take a three man security patrol with them, I'm not optimistic," Arya answered.

A quarter hour later the Doc's wagon finally appeared at the entry of the livery. Sam and the Doc climb down. Sansa could see as Sam approached them that he wore a defeated expression. The moment their eyes met she knew he had not been successful.

"What now?" Arya asked as they stood and began to walk towards the barn.

"Now we pray."


	32. Chapter 32

It was a two days ride from Bisbee to Copper Canyon. Jon was grateful that there weren't many other towns that lay in between. His knew their best hope for success lay in being able to keep the element of surprise. As they rode out that first day he thought of little else but his friends and the Stark girls. It had been well over two months since he has last seen any of them. He could only imagine the damage that might have been done by Petyr and the Boltons in that time.

That night when they camped he made a point to seek out Lt. Seaworth. He found him sitting alone on a log near the edge of a small creek shortly after dinner.

"What can I do for you son?" Seaworth asked as Jon came alongside him.

"Nothing," Jon said as he sat down next to him. "I just wanted to thank you for trying to back me yesterday with the colonel. I only wish it had worked."

"Think nothing of it. Putting an end to the Bolton threat is long overdue. I think I've been chasing them in one form or another for half my damned life. It'll be nice to take my retirement knowing they're finished."

"Well I still thank you all the same." They sat for a few minutes in silence, listening to the creek and the sounds of the desert at night.

"You planning to stay sheriff once this is all settled?" Seaworth asked.

"Haven't really thought much about it. Perhaps, though perhaps I'll just homestead a claim, marry the girl I love, get fat and spend my time on something nicer than killing people."

"That actually sounds rather pleasant. I hope I'm not too old to do the same thing."

"I don't think anyone is too old for such a thing," Jon stated and they both laughed.

That sat a bit longer and then Jon decided he would turn in for the night, they had another long day of riding ahead, but ideally they would within striking distance of Copper Canyon by nightfall tomorrow. How it would all play out after that was anyone's guess.

xxxxx

Arya headed out early the following day. She found it was always easiest to sneak out to begin her hunt before anyone was truly awake. She knew Sansa would not want her to go out, she never did anymore, but she couldn't just sit around the house and wait. In fact, it made her uncomfortable to see how patient Sansa could be, how she could smile and just go on pretending that nothing had changed. She loved and trusted her sister, she did, but she also wanted action. She wanted Petyr and the Boltons dead. And because of that she knew it was best that she kept clear of them for the next couple of days. So she left a quick note that she had taken Nymeria with her and didn't plan to be back until dinner.

She left the house and went down the back alley to the livery. She took a horse from the back corral and waved to Theon, who just smiled and shook his head, as she headed south.

They day dragged on. She spent much of the morning in the scrub with nothing to show for her. Her aim was off, despite the fact that she kept picturing Petyr's face on every bird. When she stopped to eat her lunch, she knew her heart just wasn't into it. But she couldn't go back to town yet, her heart was even less into encountering Petyr or the Boltons. So she headed further south, stopping occasionally to try and shoot some game, mostly unsuccessfully. At one point she spent most of an hour throwing sticks for Nymeria to fetch, only stopping once the dog tired of the game.

The sun had finally started to set when she decided she should head back into town. She knew Sansa was going to be livid at her for being gone all day and not returning until after dark, even with the note, but she wasn't sure how much she cared. She had to admit she was still rather angry with Sansa for refusing to take further action, but as she watched the top of the sun sink behind the hills, she knew she was also being unfair. She called to Nymeria, who having scented something, had wandered a distance away. The dog looked at her and began to bark before she turned and took off further south.

"Nymeria!" she shouted before mounting her horse and giving chase. She followed the dog over a rise and came to a halt. In the valley below was a small camp. Despite the gathering darkness she could still make out the markings on the top of the tents. She knew they meant they belonged to the army. But why would the army be camped here? And then she realized this was an answer to her prayers. She could tell them about the Boltons and this nightmare could end.

She tied her horse off to a nearby mesquite and then carefully made her way down into the camp. As she got closer, Nymeria doubled back and came up alongside her. Arya moved to grab for her neck, but the dog broke into a run then and headed further into the camp. She cursed and hurried after her.

"Nymeria!" Arya hissed as the dog shot into the far tent.

She heard a cry of surprise go up and then a moment later the tent flap flew back. A man stepped out wildly surveying the scene. Arya gasped as her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with tears. "Jon," she sobbed.

"Arya!" he cried, stumbling forward and pulling her into an embrace. They stood hugging each other for some time as Nymeria circled them and barked excitedly.

"They told us you were dead. That you were all dead. Sansa kept believing you were alive though, that you'd come back to her. I tried to believe it too…I just….. I can't believe it's you, that you're here," Arya said once they released each other.

"How is she?"

"She's been really strong. It was hard at first, but she got little better each day. Once you're home though and she's knows she was right, she'll be perfect."

"What of the Boltons? Are they still here?"

"They are. Where's the rest of the army?"

"This is the scout team. It was all they would spare. We'll have to send a rider for the rest of them."

"I'm so happy you're back," she said and hugged him once again.

"Me too. Now come inside, I need you to tell us everything you know."

xxxxxx

"Where have you been?!" Sansa shouted when Arya finally appeared in the doorway of their apartment. She was almost angry enough to strike her and so she quickly turned away. She wiped her eyes and tried to calm down. She had been scared out of her mind that something had happened to Arya, but she hadn't wanted to draw attention to the fact that she had slipped out of town unescorted, and so she'd been pacing the apartment for hours in complete terror.

"I'm sorry," Arya said. She felt terrible, it was clear from Sansa's red and puffy face that she had been crying for some time.

"How could you make me worry like that!?" Sansa cried whirling back around. "I know you're angry with me, but still. How could you worry me so?!"

"I'm sorry, but it was for a good reason. I swear. I had to stay and tell Jon and the army about the Boltons."

Sansa froze, her eyes went wide and her mouth open in disbelief. "Did you say – Arya….." It suddenly was hard to breath and she collapsed into a nearby chair. She had been clinging to her dreams and memories of him for weeks. And while she had known in her soul he was alive, to have confirmation from someone that had set eyes on him, well it was completely overwhelming.

"I saw Jon. He's alive Sansa, and he brought the army…. Well he'll be bringing the army."

Sansa started to cry anew. "And he's ok? How did he seem?" she sobbed, tears streamed down her cheeks.

"He's fine. He looked very well," Arya said gently. "He's with a scout team south of town. They're sending a rider to alert the rest of the army at first light. Once they arrive they're going to arrest the Boltons, and Petyr, and then this whole nightmare will be over."

Sansa buried her face into her hands and sobbed. Arya moved forward and stroked her hair. "He told me to tell you he loves you. I think he wanted to say a bunch of other mushy stuff, but then he decided I might not be the best messenger."

Sansa laughed at that and then got up and hugged Arya tightly. "He's home. I knew he'd come home."

They stood like that for a couple minutes enjoying the feeling of relief and happiness.

"It's all going to be over soon. I can hardly believe it," Sansa said as the moved apart. She smoothed her hair and smiled, clearly thinking of Jon. Arya was happy for her and then quickly started to think about where she could stay for a night or two to allow them some space to reunite.

A single gunshot out on the street startled them both back into the present. The gun shot was followed by the din of raised voices.

"What's that all about?" Arya asked as they moved to the front window. They looked out and saw a group of men starting to assemble in front of The Mockingbird. It was hard to tell who they were in the dark, but the lights of the saloon glinted off their weapons.

"I don't know," Sansa answered, "but I don't think it's anything good."


	33. Chapter 33

"And you're certain it's the army?" Petyr asked again.

"I told you," Kar began, his annoyance clear, "I could only get so close. But yeah, from what I could see, all but one guy had on a uniform, and I'm rather certain they had army issued tents."

"Strange, the sun set hours ago," Ramsay stated from his seat in the corner of Petyr's office. Petyr and Kar both turned to look at him then. His tone was light, but the way the light hit his features, he looked more menacing than usual.

"Umm, not sure what you mean boss," Kar responded.

"Well I'm going to go ahead and assume you can't see in the dark, so why am I just now hearing about this?" Ramsay asked, his eyes narrowing like a predator moving in for a kill.

"Well," Kar began and then swallowed thickly. "You see I watched them for a while, you know to be certain, and then I came back to tell you….. But the thing is, when I got back, you were rather….." he glanced at Petyr who would not meet his eye, "busy."

"Busy you say."

"It's just…. I know you don't like to be interrupted when you're with the ladies," Kar finished shifting uncomfortably as Ramsay continued to stare at him.

Ramsay waited a moment and then rose from his chair. He crossed the room and placed his hands on the man's shoulders and looked him in the eye for a long moment before stepping back and violently backhanding him. Kar stumbled back, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Are you actually stupid enough to think this wasn't worth interrupting me for?" Ramsay snarled. "You think I'd prefer to find out when the army puts a bullet in my head?"

"It was a small group. I didn't think it would matter if the news waited," Kar nearly whimpered.

"And what did you do to pass the time while you waited?" Ramsay asked suddenly placid once more.

"I – I found my own company for a bit, but then I lost track of time."

Ramsay seemed to mull this over before speaking once more. "Point out on the map where you saw them."

Kar slowly approached Petyr's desk and pointed to a spot on the map. Ramsay nodded and then turned to one of his men that had been standing near the door. "Go start roundin' up the others. And send someone to the livery to have them ready the horses."

"Sure thing, but it's going to take a bit. This time of night they're spread all over town," the man responded.

"Well apparently there's no hurry. Ain't that right Kar?" Ramsay replied turning his attention back to the first man.

"I'll go help him," Kar offered.

"No. You stay. We have more to discuss." Then he turned back to the other man. "Tell the men we ride in an hour."

"You got it boss," the man at the door said before taking his leave.

Petyr had been quietly watching the entire exchange from behind his desk, but he decided it might be time to speak. "You know, perhaps it would be better to just leave the army be."

"And why is that?" Ramsay said turning his angry gaze off Kar and studying Petyr's face.

The icy paleness of Bolton's eyes unnerved him some. He knew he had to tread carefully. He truly did wish the army would come and rid him of these pests, but it would only work if they shot them all on sight. If they rode in and captured any of them alive, well the risk that someone would reveal his connection to the whole mess was far too great.

"It's just that, while it very well might be the army he thinks he saw, the odds are fairly high it's just a scout patrol out looking for Apache that strayed from the reservation. Given that they'll clear out soon enough, but if you kill them, well, the army is likely to send out more soldiers to find out what happened to these ones," Petyr explained.

"If that was the case then why wouldn't they have just come the additional mile into town and slept in a real bed? You cannot be that dimwitted. You cannot think ME, that dimwitted. They know we're here and they don't want us to know they are."

"I –" Petyr began.

"Perhaps you want them to find me?"

"That's –"

"If me or any of my men are captured, I promise you we will tell anyone that will listen why we ended up here in Copper Canyon." Ramsay's gaze bore into Petyr. He knew then that his fate was truly tied to Bolton, there was no escaping it.

"Fair enough," Petyr conceded. "Would you like me to call in my men as well?"

"Sure, the more the merrier." Ramsay turned his back and looked out the window. It was too dark to see anything in the desert. Kar had ridden with him for a long time, but it was clear since they had come to this town that he had surpassed his usefulness.

"What can I help with boss?" Kar asked clearly nervous.

"You have done quite enough today my friend," Ramsay said, and then he turned around and ran his knife into Kar's stomach, gutting him like a fish. Kar cried out and fell to his knees, clutching as his entrails that now snaked forth from his body. He gave a gurgling cry and then collapsed to the ground completely a moment later.

Roz appeared in the doorway a moment later, clearly drawn by the noise. She stood looking wide eyed at the scene but didn't make a sound.

"You," Ramsay said fixing her with his pale gaze. "Find me the last whore he fucked and send her to me at Harren Hall. Now."

xxxxx

The girls stood in the dark looking out the window of Arya's bedroom. They could see a few men gathered in front of The Triple P. Their weapons continued to gleam menacingly in the lantern light.

"They know," Sansa whispered.

"They know what?" Arya asked confused.

"They know about Jon and the scout party."

Arya turned to her. "How do you figure that?"

"There's no other reason for them to be mustering at this time of the night."

"Alright, we should go get the others then."

"The others?" Now Sansa was the one that was confused.

"Yes. Gendry, Tormund, Brienne, Theon, Loras, anyone that we know that would still be loyal to Jon and can shot a gun worth a lick. We'll ride out to the camp, make a stand."

"Arya -"

"There's no other choice. They'll kill them if we don't help them."

"And they kill us if they catch us. A large group is too risky and there's not enough time to gather everyone."

"You're just going to let him die?!"

"Of course not! But the only option here is for you to ride out and warn him before the Boltons reach him."

"Ok, but what are you going to do?" Arya asked tightening Ned's holster belt around her small waist.

"I'm going to do my best to give you a head start."

xxxxxx

Arya let herself out the back gate and hurried down the back alley of town. She reached the end of the street. She stopped next to the blacksmith's shop. She glanced down the alley to make sure it was clear before crossing over to the livery.

"Arya?" she heard from behind her. She whirled around to see Gendry coming out of the darkness towards her. Arya's mind nearly went blank for a moment as he stood before her with an open shirt. "Well, what are you doing out here?" he asked, snapping her attention back to the current moment.

"What are you doing out here?" she snapped back.

"Outhouse," he answered as he took in her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Jon's back. He's camped with a few soldiers in a valley about a mile east of the mine. We have to get out to him before the Boltons."

"Wait, what?" Gendry said holding up his hands. "Jon, the Boltons. Arya, what's going on?"

"There's no time for details. Go get a gun and meet me over at the livery. We have to go before they do."

"Alright," he agreed without a second thought.

She nodded and then on an impulse she moved to him, leapt up and kissed his cheek before turning and quickly running across the street to the livery.

She made her way around the back side of the stable heading towards the over flow corral. It was a long way to ride bareback, but she saw no other option. She moved to open the gate when she heard a shotgun pump behind her. She whirled around and there stood Theon.

"Arya?" he asked lowering the gun. "What are you doing sneaking around out here? You stealing horses now?"

"I'll explain it later, but I need two horses. I need them right now." Gendry showed up next to Theon a moment later. Theon looked between them and gave Arya a cheeky grin.

"Take two from the back corral. I was just getting them ready for Fulton."

"Thanks Theon. Come on Gendry."

They ran to the other corral and took two of the readied horses. "Lead the way," Gendry said as soon as they were both mounted. Arya nodded and kicked her horse. She prayed that whatever it was Sansa was planning to do, that she would be safe.

xxxxx

She left Gendry with horses up on the ridge. She told him to keep a look out for the Boltons and then made her way down towards the camp. Arya figured there would be a lookout and she didn't want anyone to get startled and start shooting.

She entered the camp with upturned hands and she called out to Jon. The sentry trained his gun on her and barked for her to halt, which she did. Jon appeared from one of the tents a moment later and told the other man to lower his weapon.

"What happened?" Jon asked. He knew Arya wouldn't have returned in the middle of the night unless something was wrong.

"Not sure how, but the Boltons know you're here. And they are about to ride out and kill you," Arya advised.

"Davos!" Jon called. Davos appeared from the other tent. "We need to send the rider now. How long till they're here?' he asked turning back to Arya.

"Not sure, but I imagine soon." There was a noise on the ridge and Jon drew his pistol.

"Somebody with you?"

"Gendry's up on the ridge." She made a loud bird call and Gendry whistled back. "We're ok for the moment."

Davos came alongside him then. "Rider's off. I told him not to stop until he reaches Stannis."

"Alright. Then I think it's best we clear out now." He turned back to Arya. "You should go back to town. You'll need to do a big loop so you don't encounter the Boltons on the way back in," Jon said.

"Are you sure we shouldn't just stay with you? We can help you fight if it comes to that," Arya said.

"We're far out matched. I'm not going to risk your life on odds like that. For now, the best thing to do is go on as if nothing's happened. Perhaps we'll get lucky and they'll think their scout was wrong. The smartest move for us is to wait for the army," Jon explained. "Is there anyone on the Cerwyn claim yet?"

"No, no one's there or at Winterfell."

"Then we'll wait there, up towards your blasted out ridge. If something happens and you have to find me, come to Winterfell."

"But –" Arya began.

"No time for buts. You better get riding miss," Davos interjected.

"He's right Arya, time to go," Jon said. Arya huffed before giving Jon a hug and heading back up the hill to Gendry. They mounted their horses and took off in the opposite direction from which they had arrived.

The remaining soldiers had already torn down the camp, doing their best to erase any noticeable signs they had been there.

"We'll ride south towards the hills before we circle back north," Jon said mounting Ghost. He thought he could already hear the sound of hooves over the desert, it was only a matter of time until the Boltons would be upon them. Davos agreed.

He kicked Ghost into a gallop and off they went. He sent up a prayer that Arya and Gendry made it back to town safely, and before anyone knew they had been gone.

xxxxx

Sansa pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she made her way to Harren Hall. Despite the shawl she felt completely exposed, she'd never left home spilling over a corset like this.

"Please let me be right," she prayed as she climbed the stairs towards Ramsay's room. She heard muffled grunts and groans from behind the door. She had figured he would be the type to insist on having a woman before he headed out to commit murder.

She took a deep breath and then knocked on the door. "Ten minutes!" came the angry response from inside.

"Mr. Fulton?" she called out.

She heard rustling and movement from inside the room and then the door opened. Ramsay stood in front of her. He was shirtless and his pants were on, but undone. Her eyes flicked to the girl in his bed. It was Kitty. She was one of Petyr's, just as she had hoped for.

"Miss Stark. It's rather late for a social call, don't you think?" Ramsay asked, amusement and uncertainty playing across his face.

"I know and I apologize if it's too forward, but I couldn't sleep. There's just too much commotion out on the street." She noticed then that his arms and chest were scratched. Her eyes flicked back to his bed and she noticed that Kitty had a split lip and hand prints around her neck. Her expression telegraphed to Sansa that she should leave.

"So what is it you're hoping I can help you with?" Ramsay asked, calling her attention back to him.

"Well I was just wondering what was going on? Did something happen out at the mine?" She let the shawl fall open a bit and his eyes honed in on the top of her corset, which she had had Arya pull tight before she left.

"There's nothing for you to be worried about."

"Oh. That's good to hear….. I'm sure you know the mine always makes me a bit nervous."

"Because of your brother?" he said and then seemed to study her reaction.

"For starters." He nodded slightly. "Could I trouble you for a drink perhaps?" she asked as she looked over his shoulder at the bottle on his desk.

He eyed her for a moment longer and then turned back towards Kitty. "Get out," he ordered her.

"Sansa, you don't -," Kitty began.

"I said get out," Ramsay ordered sternly.

Kitty flinched and then got out of bed. She quickly pulled on her dress and hurried passed them. Sansa caught her arm at the last moment and Kitty paused. "You give Petyr my regards. Please," Sansa said softly, her eyes pleading with the other girl. Kitty nodded once and then disappeared down the hall. The irony wasn't lost on Sansa, that she was now counting on Petyr to be her salvation.

She entered the room and Ramsay closed the door. "I have to say, I'm rather surprised to see you here, especially so late and dressed like that," he said as he poured two glasses of whiskey and then held one out to her.

"I'm surprised as well," she said forcing what she hoped was a flirty smile. She took the glass and forced her fingertips to brush his. He seemed pleased by the contact. "So what is all that hoopla in the street anyways?"

"I told you, nothing to worry about," he said taking a drink and then pulling on a shirt that he left unbuttoned.

"It would so help me sleep if I knew. That way my mind won't stay busy making up stories." She batted her lashes a bit at the end for good measure. The hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Someone spotted a small encampment outside of town. We're just planning to ride out and investigate," he answered after another long moment.

"Can't that wait till morning? I mean what if it's the Boltons?"

Ramsay smiled and tipped back the rest of his whiskey. "I appreciate your concern, but I can guarantee it's not the Boltons. You don't need to worry for me. If anything it's probably just an Apache hunting party."

"You're probably right, which means it just silly for you to lose sleep over them then doesn't it?"

He set his glass down with a hard thunk. "Why are you really here Sansa?" The suspicion in his voice was clear.

"I told you, I couldn't sleep." She realized then that her hand had moved up and she was fiddling with the necklace she had forgotten to remove. She tried to play it off by slowly sweeping her hand over her collarbone. His eyes followed her hand as it passed by the swell of her breast.

"And you thought coming here, dressed like that, would remedy the situation?" he asked, lust now coloring his tone.

"You offered once to teach me Brag. I just thought…"

"You want me to believe you came here in the middle of the night to learn cards?"

"When you say it like that, it does seem rather foolish I suppose."

"I think you're here for something far more salacious, you just don't want to say it."

Sansa could feel her heart starting to beat in her throat. What if Kitty didn't get to Petyr? What if Petyr decided not to come? How far would she have to carry this ruse?

"You've caught me," she said with a forced smile. "I've tried to fight it, but I'm rather intrigued by you. I just thought if I came here late that we could talk without anyone reporting back to Petyr. You know how he can be."

"That I do," he said and poured another whiskey before turning back to her. "So what is it that intrigues you exactly?"

"Did you cut Mr. Kar's fingers off because he touched me?"

"Do you want to thank me? Or does that frighten you?" He took a drink and studied her.

She paused and let him think she was mulling it over. "Thank you I suppose. He upset me terribly," she said finally.

He tipped back the rest of the drink and set the glass down. The noise nearly made her jump. He looked almost pleased to see her startled.

"Are you a virgin Sansa?"

"Excuse me?!" She took a step back.

"Let's not play coy," he said and stepped forward to close the distance. She could smell the whiskey on his breath. "I just need to know how gentle I need to be with you." He pushed the shawl away and she watched his hand as he ran his fingers down her arm. She held her breath until she inhaled sharply when his eyes snapped back up to hers. "Thing is though, I don't particularly care for being gentle." Sansa swallowed thickly. "The other problem is, I'm pressed for time right now. So, if you're going to need for me to be gentle, then you're going to have to wait until I return."

"I – uh – I-" She felt a panicked blush spread quickly across her chest and cheeks. He seemed to take that as a sign she was just too shy to say what she wanted. He smiled wickedly.

"But if I don't need to be gentle," he grabbed the shawl and pulled it all the way off her, "If you just want me to fuck you right here, right now, well go ahead, strip and get on the bed on all fours."

Sansa gapped at him. "I – I –"

She jumped as someone began to pound at the door. "Fulton! The men are waiting! I must insist that you get out there!" Petyr shouted.

"Your father is here it seems," Ramsay stated with a dark smile and stepped back.

"He is not my father," Sansa hissed instinctually.

"Shall I send him away then?"

She heard the lock click and the door burst open. It was Petyr's boarding house, she knew he'd have keys.

"You're needed down on the street," he said harshly to Ramsay. He won't even look at Sansa.

"I was just on my way," Ramsay answered as he began to button up his shirt and then picked up his holster belt.

"Then I'll leave you to it." He turned to Sansa then. "Let's go so the man can get on with his duties."

"I was just on my way home," Sansa said as she bent to pick up her shawl.

"Were you?" Petyr asked sourly.

"Seems we'll finish this conversation once I return Miss Stark," Ramsay said and then pushed pass Petyr and out the door.

Petyr slammed the door behind him. "What are you doing here!? And why are you dressed like one of my whores?"

"I just came to talk to him."

"In the middle of the night, dressed like that?"

"It's not any of your business."

"The hell it's not. From what I can tell you came here to get fucked. Is that what you want Sansa, you want to get fucked?"

She slapped him and instantly regretted it. The anger and jealousy on his face shattered, replaced by what she could only describe are pure fury and rage. She should've known better than to push him right now. She'd always told herself that he'd never force himself on her, but the feral look he wore now frightened her to the core.

"Petyr, I'm sorry," she said quickly.

Petyr grabbed her harshly, his fingers digging painfully into her bare arms. A moment passed and she felt a couple of his nails break the skin, causing her to wince. He didn't seem to care. "Why are you here with him?" he hissed angrily, his face only inches from hers.

"I – I - It's just some nights I get terribly lonely, and he's been rather kind to me," she sputtered.

"So you thought you'd come throw yourself at him." His eyes were bright as they watched her chest heave in fear.

"I was.. I'm trying to make myself forget Jon," she lied. "Isn't that what you're been encouraging me to do?"

She yelped as his grip tightened further. "There are far better options than him," he said clearly insulted.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Clearly I have much to think on when I get home."

"Home?" He laughed coldly, his grip slightly releasing. "No, not tonight. Tonight you'll come stay with me."

"There's no need for that. I just need to go home….." She stopped herself from saying she needed to get home to Arya, less he offer to send someone to fetch her. He was searching her face in the most uncomfortable way. "Please let me go. You're hurting me," she said as his fingers dug back in.

He held on a moment longer and then released his grip slightly. "No, Sansa. I must insist you come with me. Hostiles were spotted not even a mile from town. It's not safe for you girls to be all alone. I'll send someone for Arya." He released her left arm so he could open the door.

"That's not necessary. I'll come with you, but I must insist you just let Arya be. There's no reason to wake her at this hour. I'm sure she's quite safe in our home."

Something flickered behind Petyr's eyes. If he hadn't known she was up to something before, he knew now, it was all over his face.

"Let's go Sansa," he said coldly, pulling her out the door.

One of his men was waiting in the hall, shotgun firmly in hand. Sansa stumbled along between the two men. The only thing keeping her calm now was the feel of the knives tucked in each of her boots.


	34. Chapter 34

Ramsay stalked into The Mockingbird just before sunrise. Petyr sat at table near the rear, playing cards with some of his girls. Like Ramsay, he had yet to sleep.

"Everything handled?" he asked as Ramsay pulled out a chair. He gave Petyr a dark look.

"There was nothing out there but a few smoldering logs. So either they moved on, or Kar gave us bad information."

"Pity we can't ask him," Petyr said dryly beginning to shuffle the deck.

"Leave us," Ramsay commanded the girls. They cleared out quickly, none of them wanted to be at his disposal. "I find your lack of concern over this matter rather off putting," he began once they were alone.

"Are you absolutely certain no one was out there?" Petyr asked.

"Certain as I can be for searching the desert in the middle of the night. We rode around the area for a while. Saw some hoof prints, but they were going in all sorts of directions, hard to say how fresh there were."

"I see."

Ramsay shook his head in disgust, rose from the table and went to the bar. He poured himself a drink and took a long sip before turning back to Petyr. "Perhaps you were right, maybe it was just an Apache hunting party," he finally conceded as he turned back to pour another drink.

Petyr sat back and finished his own drink. "I'm rather certain they were not."

"And why's that?" Ramsay asked as he slowly turned back to Petyr.

"Because I couldn't find Arya Stark last night. I still can't."

"What's she got to do with it?"

God how he resented Ramsay Bolton. If it won't bring about his own downfall, he would have Pycelle wire the damn army right now.

"Your man sees a small army encampment. Hours later you can't find this encampment. Arya Stark is missing from her bed in the middle of the night. It's my opinion that she warned the army."

"Why her?"

"Because our sheriff is with them. I told you he'd come back."

"Well seems to me he cleared out again. Which is what I need to be doing as well. I've decided it's time to go to Mexico after all."

"Not until you do what I paid you for."

"Well given the current situation, I'm not sure what you paid is worth the risk."

"Let me guess, you want more?"

"Perhaps, but then you have no idea where the sheriff is, and I doubt he shows his face before the army arrives. I'm not sure any amount of money is worth sticking around to see if I end up in a noose."

"He won't wait for the army, not if he thinks the town is in danger."

"He can't be that foolish, not when he's aware of what I'm capable of."

"He's in love, he would be that foolish."

Ramsay tipped his head and studied Petyr for moment. Petyr held his gaze before looking towards the stairs. "You have her here, don't you?" Ramsay asked clearly intrigued.

"And what if I do?"

Ramsay smiled, his eyes lighting up in the most horrible way. "Then we might still be able to come to terms."

xxxxx

When Arya arrived home just before dawn, she immediately could tell something was wrong. It was easy to see the back door to the shop had been kicked in, as well as the door to their apartment above.

"Sansa!" she called stepping into the apartment, her hand on her pistol.

There was no answer and no one was there. The sun had just risen, where else could her sister be? Arya suddenly felt sick. Sansa hadn't explained what she planned to do to delay the Boltons, but Arya had helped her with her corset. She had a guess. What if Sansa had overplayed her hand? What if she'd been hurt or worse?

Arya heard a noise behind her and whirled around with her pistol now drawn. There stood Roz with her hands up.

"Roz?" she asked as she lowered her gun.

"Arya you need to get out of here. Go to Brienne's or have Theon hide you, just… you need to clear out."

"What? Why?"

"Petyr's looking for you. Has been all night."

Arya knew what that meant. "Where's Sansa?" she demanded.

"With Petyr."

"What do you mean with Petyr?"

"He's got her locked in The Triple P."

"What? Why? Is she alright?"

"She's alright for now, far as I know."

"For now?!" Arya cried, alarmed.

"I don't think he wants to hurt her, but he thinks you two somehow have notified the army to the presence of our… visitors. You need to make yourself scarce until he calms down."

"But –"

"I gotta go. Please be careful," Roz said before turning and quickly departing.

Arya put her gun back in its holster and ran her hands through her hair. She needed to get out of here. The question now was where to go?

xxxxxx

Sansa sat against the wall in the corner of a dark room watching shadows move back and forth in the sliver of light that made its way under the door. She sucked on her lower lip which still tasted faintly of blood. She'd been rather shocked when Petyr had struck her after their arrival at The Triple P last night. She knew he was furious, which is why she was thankful that was all he had done before he'd locked her in this room.

She listened carefully to the voices that passed in the hall and was soon able to determine the Boltons had returned. From the bits of conversation she could hear as people passed the room, they had not found Jon or the scout team. She thanked god and released a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding.

She checked the knives in her boots once more, it was one of the only things keeping her sane. Especially now that she knew Ramsay was back, god only knew what he might have planned for her if Petyr decided to share his suspicions about her aid to Jon.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when the door finally opened. She blinked rapidly into the light. When her eyes finally focused, she found Ramsay standing in the door frame. She quickly scrambled to her feet and waited for him to speak.

"Will he come for you?" he asked after several long moments had passed in which he had carefully appraised her.

She pulled her shawl tighter before she answered him. "Will who come? Petyr?"

Ramsay shook his head. He looked disappointed in her. "Let's not play games anymore. We both know you know who I am, and we both know who I speak of."

She held his gaze, doing her best to mask the fear she felt. "I assume Petyr's increased his offer if you're still here," she said, finally acknowledging the truth of the situation.

"You're quite the clever girl. I can see why he's so infatuated with you. Now answer the question."

"Who's to say? Perhaps he's forgotten me by now."

"I doubt that very much." He moved into the room then. He moved quick, too quickly for her to retrieve the knife in her boot. She found herself pinned between him and the wall. "You're quite the enticing treat after all," he said as he inhaled her neck and her hair. His breath was hot on her skin and stunk of whiskey. She shuddered as his body moved against hers and his nose trailed along the skin of her neck and shoulder.

"What are you doing? This was not the agreement," Petyr snapped from the doorway.

Ramsay paused, rolled his eyes and pushed away from her. He turned to face Petyr, his annoyance clear. "Do you have news for me then?"

"Not yet. My men are still searching."

"Time's a ticking Baelish. I need to be out of here before the army shows up. If you haven't lured him out by sunset, my end of the deal's gonna have to wait."

Petyr spared Sansa a quick glance. "Fine. Until then, hands off her."

"As you wish," Ramsay said and then turned back to Sansa. "Study up on your Spanish my dear. We leave for Mexico tonight." And with that he left the room.

"Petyr!?" Sansa cried, her eyes searching his face. He would not meet her eye.

"Sorry sweetling," he said after a moment, "you were the only thing I had that he truly wanted."

xxxxxx

There was no way she was going to be able to get to Winterfell undetected, not with Petyr's men and the Boltons patrolling the edges of town the way they were. If only she could get Nymeria to carry a message.

She sat in the attic of Oathkeepers, peering out a tiny dirty window, watching the armed men going in and out of Petyr's establishments. Sansa was in there somewhere. The question was how to get her free.

"I can't imagine the army would be more than a day out. She can hang on till then," Brienne said as she entered the room with a bowl of soup.

"What do you think they're doing to her?"

"Don't think about that." Arya gave her a look that advised she had no desire to be coddled. "Fine. Petyr is a swine, but I don't think he'd let harm come to her."

Arya looked back out the window and then turned back with a sigh. "She won't just be waiting on the army to save me. She'd have some clever plan in the works."

"For now, we wait. I'm certain she's going to be ok. As you just said, she's one to make clever plans."

xxxxxxx

"You're absolutely certain he'll come?" Jon asked Davos, not for the first time that afternoon.

"He's a man of his word. He said he'd come if we sent the rider. He'll come," Davos assured him.

"You know, I just need a good rifle and I could end all of this myself," Jon told Davos.

"I admire your confidence, but I think you might be overestimating your talents against a group that large."

"I can't stand just waiting here. I need to know what is happening there."

"Sorry son, but we do not engage until Stannis arrives with the rest of our forces. Those were the orders."

"I'm not in the army. Those aren't MY orders."

"If you interfere, if you alert the Boltons by charging in there, I can assure you that should you survive, Stannis will have you hauled off to the fort same as if you were."

"That's my town, those are my friends. What is the Boltons decide to leave here the same way they left Cailin? I can't live with that."

"We have to wait. But don't lose faith, I can't imagine it will be too much longer."


	35. Chapter 35

The town felt like a powder keg all afternoon. Anyone with a lick of sense could tell something was amiss. As a result, the streets had been eerily empty most of the day and Arya had heard little noise coming from the saloon below.

She tried not to, but at some point she had dozed off, her head resting on her hand propped up on the window sill. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when a commotion in the street below startled her awake. She blinked rapidly and let her eyes adjusted to the fading light. Her best guess was that it just before sunset. She stood up and looked out the window. The street was half filled with men and horses. The window was far too dirty for her to clearly make out anyone's face, and a moment later a shout went up and the group started off down the street. Arya looked to the head of the column just as they began to turn around the curve at the far end of the street. Her heart seized as when she thought she caught a glimpse of red hair. She frantically wiped her sleeve on the glass to get a better look, but when she tried to find it again it was gone.

She ran across the attic and down the ladder. She jumped onto the landing of the floor below and then ran down the second flight of stairs to the kitchen. She banged through the door and startled Brienne who cursed as hot soup splashed on her arm.

"They just left," Arya announced. "The Boltons."

"All of them?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Alright then, let's go see him."

Brienne closed the damper on the stove and followed Arya into the main room. The room was empty except for one table where Tormund, Theon and Pod sat playing cards.

"It's time," Brienne said as she made her way behind the bar and picked up her shotgun. Pod and Theon were on their feet in an instant, Tormund gave a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan and then got up as well.

The men secured their own weapons and together the group left Oathkeepers and crossed the empty street. They entered The Mockingbird without resistance. The ground floor was deserted. Theon took a position at the bottom of the stairs as the rest of them headed up to find Petyr.

The door to Petyr's office was opened and they found him inside. He was seated at his desk, his head resting on his right hand. He looked up in surprise and then his eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Where's my sister?!" Arya demanded.

"Gone," he answered simply.

"Gone?" Arya echoed and tightened her grip on the handle of her pistol. "What do you mean gone?"

"She left with the Boltons. Her choice I assure you. I'm sure you're well aware of her attraction to Ramsay," he stated, his voice filled with disgust.

"Lair!" Arya screamed as she shoved her pistol in her holster and scrambled over the desk. She launched herself at Petyr, knocking him backwards from his chair. She landed on top of him, scratching, cursing and punching until Tormund finally pulled her off him a couple minutes later.

"Get up," Brienne ordered. Petyr slowly rose and wiped at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"You're not the law here. Now get out before I call for Templeton and the rest of my men," he said.

"We're done taking orders from you," Brienne said. She grabbed one arm and Tormund the other. He started to struggle, yelling threats and curses at them all. A moment later Pod smacked him in the back of his head with the butt of his rifle. Petyr instantly went limp and would've fallen to the floor if not for their grip on him.

"Well now you'll need to take his legs," Brienne sighed. Pod nodded and handed his gun to Arya.

As they began to adjust Petyr between them, there was a rumble from outside the window and Arya ran over to it. Before she could say anything they heard shouting from downstairs. "I will shoot you!" they heard Theon call as they heard someone running up the stairs.

"They're here! The army's here!" a man started shouting as he came up the stairs. He skidded to a halt in the doorway as he took in the scene in the office.

"Perfect," Brienne said. "Get out of the way."

"What'd you – that's – Mr. Baelish," he sputtered. Theon was on him a moment later pulling him out of the way.

Pod and Tormund started forward carrying Petyr. Arya pushed ahead of them and ran down the stairs. She exited the saloon to find the street was filled with horses and men. Pod and Tormund came out a couple minutes after and dropped Petyr unceremoniously on the sidewalk to take in the scene.

"Who's in charge here?" Brienne called to the soldier closes to them.

"Colonel!" the soldier called out.

A balding dark haired stone faced man rode over. "What's all this?" he asked eyeing Petyr's prone body.

"He's was a conspirator of the Boltons, among other things. We're taking him over to the jail," Brienne explained.

"And where are the Boltons?"

"They just left, maybe thirty minutes ago," Arya answered. "They headed that way," she added pointing to the end of the street.

"You two," the colonel said pointing at two of his men, "stay here and question this man when he wakes up. The rest of you, let's go."

"Wait!" Arya shouted. Stannis looked at her with displeasure. "They have my sister, Sansa. She didn't go by choice."

"We'll do the best we can," he said and then shouted the order to move out. Arya knew what that meant. Sansa and her safety would not be a priority.

xxxxxxx

"And where you going?" Davos asked when he found Jon saddling Ghost as the sun started to dip towards the horizon.

"I'm just gonna do a little recon," he answered. "I won't be seen."

"Jon –"

"I've waited long enough. Consider yourself lucky I waited this long."

Davos sighed. "Give me a moment and I'll go with you." Jon nodded as Davos went to retrieve his saddle.

He turned and looked out from the ridge in the direction of town. With any luck they would be able to get close enough for him to get off a couple of well-placed shots off, at least that was his hope.

He heard what sounded like the faint rumble of thunder but he knew that had to be wrong. He ran back and grabbed a spyglass from one of the tents. He trained it towards town and saw faint swirls of dust crossing the desert floor. Whoever it was, they were a large enough group to disturb the landscape.

"Hurry up," Jon called. "And tell the others to follow us as soon as possible."

Davos finished saddling his horse and came to Jon's side. He pointed out what he could see.

"Could be Stannis," Davos said.

"They seem to be moving away from town. I think the Boltons are fleeing."

Davos shouted for the others to get a move on and then he and Jon mounted their horses and started down the ridge.

They followed the road towards town and then veered off it to head south in the direction the other group had gone. They had ridden for a short time when they heard rumbling from behind them. Jon looked back to see a dust cloud following behind them.

"Army?" he called to Davos.

"I believe so." They slowed and decided to wait for them.

"Davos!" Stannis called in greeting when they were close enough.

"Colonel," Davos greeted him. "We believe the Boltons are just ahead of us."

"Looks as if I should've listened to you more boy," Stannis conceded sparing Jon a glance.

"I assume they are headed towards Mexico," Jon said.

"Imagine so. Hopefully we can overtake them." Stannis gave the order and they were on the move once more. "I've given the order to shot to kill," he informed Davos and Jon as they picked up the pace. "Pity about the local girls. I so detest collateral damage."

"Wait. What about the local girls?" Jon asked as all the air left his lungs.

"Some girl asked about her sister, pretty name… Sasha, no Sansa I think, and another woman told us they took a few of the other whores from one of the brothels."

"Jon!" Davos cried as Jon kicked Ghost to a blistering pace, leaving the rest of them behind.

He distanced himself some from the cavalry, but they were still hot on his heels. He begged Ghost to try to run just a little faster. He desperately wanted to get to them before the bullets started to fly.

He finally caught up to the Boltons and was almost to the back of the group when the first shot rang out. It had come from behind him. He cursed whatever over eager private had just ruined his slim advantage.

The men near the back of the Boltons whirled around at the noise. They drew their weapons as they released a string of curses. Jon had just enough time to draw his weapon and get off one shot, killing the man nearest to him. And then all hell broke loose.

xxxxxxxx

Jon frantically flipped over the final dark haired man on the battlefield and shown the lantern on his face. He should've guessed that Ramsay would split off from the main group. A man like that would hardly care if all of his men were slaughter, so as long as he himself made it out alive.

Jon surveyed the desert landscape turned battlefield. In the moonlight he could see it was littered with men and horses. He himself was bleeding from several minor wounds. But none of it mattered, not when Sansa was still somewhere with Ramsay.

"Have Yankee and Dakota take a couple men back to town. We're going to need a couple wagons to take all these bodies back for proper identification and burial," Stannis told Davos.

Jon quickly made his way over to where Stannis stood. "We need to keep going," Jon said. "Ramsay Bolton is still out there."

"All his men are dead. He's not so much of a concern to me right now," Stannis said dismissively.

"He has men in Mexico. It's only a matter of time until he joins them and then he'll be right back here doing the same things or worse," Jon countered.

"Then we'll deal with that then. Right now, I'm far more concerned with treating my wounded and burying my dead," Stannis replied.

"I'm going after him," Jon declared. "With or without your help."

"That's your choice. I don't recommend it, but you are not under my command," Stannis said.

"You're really not going to help me?" Jon asked in disbelief.

"I wish you luck sheriff," Stannis replied. "Really I do."

Jon just shook his head, ignoring Davos' attempt to speak to him. He quickly made his way to where Ghost stood and mounted him. He surveyed the horizon. He had no sure way of knowing which way Ramsay might have gone, but his best guess was that he would keep heading south to Mexico, likely following the river.

He urged Ghost to a gallop and headed southwest towards the river. He searched desperately for any sign that he was on the right path.

"Give me a sign Sansa," he begged aloud. "Please."

He rode for several more minutes, growing more despondent with each passing moment and then strand of fabric clinging to a cholla in the silver moonlight caught his eye. He pulled Ghost to a stop and jumped down. He carefully pulled the ribbon from the cactus needles. He knew in his heart that ribbon belonged to Sansa, that it was the sign he had prayed for.

He hurried back on to Ghost and kicked the horse into a gallop once more. He continued on until he hit the river. He was forced to slow Ghost then as they picked their way through the darkness of the trees. He told himself to keep going, telling himself that Ramsay would have to rest his horse eventually unless he wanted it to drop dead.

He allowed Ghost a few minutes rest when he found a piece of lace caught in a cottonwood tree. He stood listening to the night, focusing all his energy on feeling for Sansa. He sensed she was close.

When Ghost was finished drinking from the river he mounted him once more and pressed on. Eventually he took a bend in the river and saw a small flicker of flame off in the distance. He proceeded slowly, doing his best to be as quiet as possible.

When he was close enough he stopped Ghost and then maneuvered him behind a copse of cottonwoods and got down. Ahead two horses were tied to a tree. The fire had grown faint but he could see there were three people near it. His eyes found Sansa instantly, the firelight catching in her hair. She was her side, Bolton curled behind her. Their breathing seemed to indicate they were asleep.

Jon's instinct was to go to her immediately, but it was almost as if Ghost sensed his intentions. For the horse knocked into his shoulder, turning him slightly. It was then he noticed another figure that appeared to be relieving himself in the river, a shotgun leaning on his side.

Almost as if he sensed he was being watched, the man turned his head in Jon's direction and scanned the trees before turning back and finishing his business. He finished and turned back towards the fire, shotgun in hand, and continued to scan the woods. Jon suddenly wondered how visible the white of Ghost's coat might be at the moment.

If it was, the man did not seem to notice. A moment later he turned towards the sleeping figures, sighed and then moved to a nearby tree and took a seat. From his position he'd be able to see most of the clearing and anyone that would be coming from the north.

Jon decided then he'd try to bide his time, see if the lookout might fall asleep. If not then he'd have to figure out a way to get behind him and take him out without alerting Ramsay.

So he waited and watched. He wasn't sure how long it was, it felt like hours, but the man finally seemed to nod off. Carefully Jon made his way through the woods, just out of the edge of the faint firelight. He rounded behind the lookout and without a sound drew his knife across the man's throat. The man never even woke. Jon swiftly moved the body behind the tree, doing his best to keep too much blood from spilling on the ground.

He hid the body behind a fallen tree and covered it with branches before creeping back towards the clearing. He stopped behind the tree and could see Ramsay was awake now, his pale eyes scanning the darkness. Jon cursed silently to himself, his hand holding his revolver tightly. He started to pull it from his holster and noticed a knife in Ramsay's hand, the blade catching a flicker of light from the dying fire. Ramsay moved closer to Sansa and Jon immediately relaxed his grip on his gun. It wasn't worth the risk, he was a good shot, but he could never take such a risk in the dark with Sansa so close to the target. He held his breath and waited as Ramsay's gaze lingered on the tree Jon stood behind. A long tense moment passed, but if he saw him, his expression gave nothing away. After another long moment Ramsay's eyes moved towards the river.

He waited unmoving until Ramsay seemed to drift back to sleep and then retreated back into the woods and carefully crept back to his original location where Ghost stood waiting. He could see now the horizon was beginning to lighten, dawn was nearly here.

He had just reached Ghost when he heard Bolton's voice. "We need to get a move on," he said as he shook Sansa awake.

"Where's –" she began to ask as she sat up.

"Quiet," he ordered her as he pulled her to her feet. He was scanning the area around them with a look of unease. There was enough light now Jon could see them clearly, which meant they would be able to see him as well. He still wasn't comfortable taking a shot, Ramsay still stood far too close to Sansa.

He pushed her forward then, towards the horses, and tied the rope connected to her wrists to saddle horn. Jon drew his pistol. In that moment it seemed as if Sansa sensed him. Her head turned in his direction and her eyes went wide as she saw him, but before either of them could say a word, Ramsay pulled her against him, using her body as a shield.

"Show yourself," Ramsay called out, gun now drawn. Jon waited and watched. Several moments passed and then Ramsay moved the gun to Sansa's temple. "You better say something sheriff, or it's going to get ugly." His tone was far too light for the situation which made Jon all the more uneasy.

"Alright! Listen Bolton, if you let her go, I'll let you go," Jon answered back.

"I don't believe you for one second sheriff. See the way I've heard it, you're the greatest gunslinger this side of the Mississippi. If I release her then there is nothing to stop you from putting a bullet right between my eyes."

"You have my word."

"Not a risk I'm willing to take."

"Alright, then you push her out of the way and we draw on each other like men," Jon suggested.

"Again, I must decline. Now turn your horse loose."

"And why would I do that?"

He cocked his gun. "I won't ask again."

"Alright," Jon said. He felt sick at the thought that Ramsay might attempt to gun his horse down. "Run home," he told Ghost. He then said a quick prayer that Ghost would understand that he needed to stay behind the cover of the trees. Hopefully he would quickly disappear around the bend. He turned Ghost north and then swatted him on his hind quarters. With a slight jump, Ghost took off in the direction Jon had pointed him.

"Bitch," he heard Ramsay shout as his gun went off. The shot went wide into a nearby tree thanks to Sansa slamming into his arm. Jon whirled to see if he could get off his own shot, but Ramsay still had a tight hold on her. "That's going to cost you later." He then turned his attention back to Jon. "Holster the gun sheriff and keep your hands in the air," Ramsay ordered him.

Jon did as he was told, staying close to the trees for coverage.

"We're going to take our leave now. Do not follow any further. I would so hate to kill her before I've even had a chance to enjoy her."

Jon's eyes locked with hers and he could see she was planning something. He shook his head.

"Wait," she mouthed when Ramsay was distracted with trying to reach for his horse. Jon shook his head again. "Trust me," she mouthed.

Ramsay moved the horse so it was in between them and Jon. "Up," Ramsay commanded and shoved her up and into the saddle. For a moment it appeared as if she might topple off because she leaned far forward, clutching at the leg that was away from Ramsay for balance. She paused and then sat up. A moment later he hoisted himself up while turning the horse and clutched Sansa to him once more.

"Perhaps the third time will be the charm sheriff," Ramsay said with a smug tip of his head.

The next events happened swiftly and yet Jon felt as if he was seeing them in slow motion. Ramsay went to kick the horse but before he could, Sansa raised her arms and drove them down towards his left thigh. Ramsay screamed as the knife she was holding sank in. He released her and Sansa dove off the horse, crashing hard to the ground. She moved to her knees to try and get clear, but the rope kept her close. With Sansa now clear of Ramsay, Jon drew his pistol and let off a single shot.

Ramsay was thrown to the ground as the horse reared up. Sansa screamed as she was pulled upwards by her arms that were still tied to the saddle. She pulled back just as the horse readied to break into a run. Without thinking, Jon let off another shot that nearly severed the rope. Sansa pulled back as hard as she could as the horse bolted forward. The force snapped the remaining rope and Sansa fell to the ground next to Ramsay's body.

Jon was at her side before he even realized he had started to run to her. He gathered her to him and then worked to untie her hands. As soon as she was free she threw her arms around him and began to kiss him anywhere she could get her lips.

"You came back," she sobbed in shock and joy.

"I promised you, didn't I?" he said back, peppering her with his own kisses.

"You did."

Jon pulled back and cradled her face in his hands and seemed to be re-memorizing her face. "What is it?" Sansa asked in a voice barely above a whisper before kissing the palm of one of his hands.

"I just want to make sure I remember your face when I ask you if you still wish to be my wife."

Sansa's face split with a magnificent smile. "Of course I do." Jon returned the smile before she added, "I mean how could I say no? You did return from the dead for me after all."

Jon laughed before kissing her on the forehead. "God how I love you."

"I love you too."

Their lips finally met then, and they shared a long deep kiss as they clung to one another. It didn't matter they were feet away from a body missing half its head or that they were both bleeding and bruised. All that mattered was that they were together once more and they had the rest of their lives to be.

xxxxxx

"We should head back soon. I imagine everyone is more than worried," Sansa said as pressed herself a little further into Jon's side.

"Soon, we'll go soon," Jon answered stifling a yawn.

"You said that after the last time."

"But this time I mean it."

They lay naked and tangled together on a blanket near the river back, Ghost and the other remaining horse were tied to a tree nearby. He had wrapped Ramsay's body in another blanket, which lay nearly out of sight behind a thatch of trees. He planned to deliver the body to Stannis upon their return.

They had intended to head back straight away, but when Jon had removed his shirt to wash off Ramsay's blood he had felt Sansa's eyes upon him, and all plans had gone to the wayside.

He had moved swiftly out of the river and they had crashed into each other. They had both needed it, the physical proof that this was not just a dream, that they were in fact both alive and reunited.

It had been over quickly, the desperation and relief too much for either of them. Afterwards they had lain on the blanket half clothed and breathing harshly.

"I'm sorry," Jon said turning towards her and caressing her face. His thumb lingering over the cut on her lip that had slightly reopened in the frenzy.

"For this?" she asked smoothing back his curls. He nodded. "Don't be." She kissed him softly before adding, "The only thing you need to be sorry for is going off to that posse."

He laughed loudly and then kissed her. "But I came back," he reminded her as he pulled back.

"You cut it very close though," she whispered and kissed him once more.

The second and third time they had taken their time and truly enjoyed their reunion, but now it was nearing noon and they both knew they needed to get back.

Jon loaded the bodies on the other horse and secured it behind Ghost before climbing up behind Sansa.

"Are you ready?" Jon asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist and took up the reigns.

"More than ever."

xxxxxx

They made it back into town late in the afternoon to find a rather celebratory atmosphere. Jon let Sansa off near Oathkeepers so she could find Arya while he took the bodies over the sheriff's office in hopes of turning them over to the army.

"Sansa!" Brienne cried as soon as she stepped inside the saloon. She moved out from behind the bar and through the room of laughing and smiling people to catch her in a hug.

"Is Arya around?" Sansa asked as soon as she released her.

"Last I knew she was over at the sheriff's office arguing with the colonel."

"Over what?"

The door flew open before she could answer and Arya barreled inside. She was on Sansa in a moment, nearly knocking her to the ground. "Thank god for Jon. I knew he'd save you," she said a moment later. "The army has been absolutely worthless by the way."

"She's just sore they won't let her lynch Petyr," Theon said as he came up behind Arya. He hugged Sansa as well.

"Speaking of, where is he?" Sansa asked. The others exchanged a quick look. "What?" she asked feeling her heart sink a bit.

"He's been arrested, but they decided to take him over to the fort in the middle of the night to wait on the marshal," Brienne advised.

"They didn't deem it safe for him to remain here in town," Theon added as a way of explaining.

"Of course it's the one damn time someone actually wants to follow due process," Arya remarked bitterly. Sansa understood the frustration, she wanted to see him locked up and suffering too.

"I'm not sure I completely understand," Sansa said.

"His men have all turned on him, even ol' Templeton," Tormund supplied as he joined the group. "Once he was in the jail they all pretty much threw themselves at the army, climbing over each other to spill secrets to save their own necks. Didn't take long for word to spread, especially about him causing two explosions in the mine. Folks were far from pleased at that news. If the colonel hadn't ridden back in when he did the lynch mob would've been able to finish the job. They just made the mistake of stringing up Pycelle first."

Sansa nodded. Pycelle was old, but he had known what he'd been doing when he had decided to hitch his wagon to Petyr. "Did any of them confess to having father killed?" Sansa asked Arya.

"No," Arya sighed with clear disappointment, "but I was promised everything will come out as his trial. We're going to be there right?"

"Of course we are," Sansa confirmed and the sisters embraced once more.

The saloon doors swung open and Jon entered. "And there he is! The returning hero back from the dead," Tormund said lifting his beer. Jon gave a faint uncomfortable smile as all eyes looked at him.

"Just glad to be home," he said. A cheer went up in the bar and glasses clinked, but the cheer of the townspeople barely seemed to matter, because it was apparent to everyone in the room, Jon only had eyes for Sansa.

xxxxxx

"And do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? From this day until your last?" the reverend asked.

"I do," Sansa said beaming.

"Then by the power granted to me by the territory of Arizona, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Jon stepped forward and kissed her as a cheer of jubilation went up from the crowd gathered in the church. Sansa smiled radiantly as they turned to face the assembled crowd. Their closest friends filled the front pews, but the rest of the town seemed to be packed into the remaining ones. With Petyr now gone it was as if the fog had lifted and the townsfolk had finally seen the truth, which was that the Starks were far from the blight they had all long believed. And while most people might be resentful it had taken them so long to see the light, Sansa found she wished to waste no time on bitterness, especially not today with Jon standing there in the new gray suit she had made for him. She wasn't sure how, but he somehow even with his new scars, he managed to look even more handsome now than the first time she had ever laid eyes on him.

He smiled widely and took her hand. "Looks like I'm finally yours forever and always," he whispered for only her to hear as they descended from the pulpit into the crowd.

"Forever and always," she echoed.


	36. Chapter 36

Epilogue

A few weeks later they stood together with their closest friends once more. This time in Tucson as they watched Petyr swing from the gallows.

Arya had been disappointed she had not been able to have more of a direct hand in his death, but Sansa had felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she watched him pay for all of the crimes he'd committed against their family.

The trial had been quicker than she would've expected. She had thought he'd be more defiant, even with his former associates' confessions. And there was plenty of them, what with them being so motivated to save themselves from a similar fate.

She had thought he had looked ready to fight on that first day, but then she had gotten up and testified against him, relaying all she had overheard between him and Ramsay. Her public rebuke of him seemed to knock any remaining fight out of him. When she had finished he had only sat and stared at her, his eyes for the first time in her memory sad and broken. Her words clearly wounded him to his core.

It had gone quickly after that. By the end it seemed there wasn't a crime since the founding of Copper Canyon that wasn't blamed on Petyr. She had almost started to feel sorry for him, but that disappeared the moment she thought of her father or Robb. Ultimately she took no joy in his death, not the way Arya did, but seeing him swinging from the end of that rope certainly provided relief and closure.

A lawyer arrived a couple weeks after his death to advise her that Petyr had named her his sole heir. Apparently he had updated his will the day after she had testified. The will made her entitled to anything the government had decided not to seize. She had wanted no part of him and had been enraged that even in death he was still trying to assert some influence in her life. Arya surprisingly was the one to advise her use what she could to her advantage. She reasoned that Petyr had taken so much from them that he clearly owed them, though he owed them far more than he could ever repay.

Sansa decided not to completely reject the inheritance. Though she did almost immediately turn over The Triple P over to Roz, telling her to take care of the girls that were still there the best she could. She then sold The Mockingbird, Harren Hall and The Landing off in short order. She had no desire to be tied physically to anything Petyr had once owned, but she managed to make peace with taking the money.

In the meantime, Jon decided to stay on as sheriff, at least for the foreseeable future. Sansa had wanted to object, but with Petyr gone, it was clear the town was now just a sleepy mining outpost. To her relief his services were rarely needed, which meant that he now had time to assist with exploring the possible mineral wealth of Winterfell.

He and Arya, with help from Theon and Gendry, eventually found a healthy vein. It was far from the Comstock Lode, but by the time they had exhausted it, they had enough money for Sansa and Arya to rebuild Winterfell. Once the house and barn was rebuilt, they decided to purchase several heads of cattle as well and Jon found himself slowly transitioning to ranch work.

Within a year Gendry purchased the Cerwyn claim and restored the house. Arya had told him it was a foolish purchase until he had revealed he had bought it for them to live in once they married. He had thought she'd enjoying being neighbors with her sister. She had smiled as she told him it was still a foolish investment.

The town grew. When Jon decided to step away from being sheriff so he could run the ranch full time, Theon became the new sheriff. Surprisingly, Tormund became his deputy. Rumor was that he was trying to go completely legitimate in order to entice Brienne. She seemed to be softening some to him, but he had not completely won her over yet.

Sam and Gilly married shortly after Doc T turned the town practice completely over to Sam. They now had two little boys.

Marge had taken over the boarding house when Olenna had passed, deciding she had had enough of the brothel life. She seemed happy, but Sansa still noted the picture of Robb remained on her vanity. Sansa still held out hope that she might someday let her heart heal fully, meet someone and marry.

Some days it amazed her that five years had passed since Jon and Sam had arrived in Copper Canyon, that this place had become happy once more. But on hot summer days like today when they were set to meet everyone for an afternoon at the river, she could barely recall the sad times that came before.

She stood on the front porch of Winterfell now reflecting on just how grateful she was each and every day that Jon had made that decision all those years ago to honor her brother and seek them out.

She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the front door open. "And how are we today?" Jon asked as he came up behind her. He nuzzled at her neck and ran his hand over her swollen belly.

"We're fine, though I'll be happy when I no longer have to be hot for two," she answered and turned towards him.

He placed his other hand on her belly and held it, the baby moving within in response to its parents' voices. "Well if Cat is anything to go by, it shouldn't be too much longer now," Jon said.

"Sam thinks the same, says it could be any day now," she confirmed before turning back towards the yard to watch her daughter race in pursuit of a small chicken. At three she was already showing a keen sense of determination. Jon wrapped his arms around her once more as they stood and watched.

"Auntie!" Cat cried suddenly when she spotted Arya and Gendry coming up the path. The chicken was abandoned in favor of running to her aunt and uncle.

Sansa stiffened ever so slightly as a sense of déjà vu settled over her. "What is it?" Jon asked with concern.

"Nothing, everything is wonderful," she replied relaxing back into him. She'd tell him later how she had dreamed nearly this exact scene more than once when he had been presumed dead all those years ago.

For now though, she lifted his hand and kissed it before taking it firmly in hers and stepping off the porch to greet her sister.


End file.
